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■"CLEAR 
THE DECKS! 

A TALE OF THE 
AMERICAN NAVr TO-DAT 

BY 

“COMMANDER” 

WITH 20 ILLUSTRATIONS «/ 



PHILADELPHIA & LONDON 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
1918 





COPYRIGHT, 1918, BYJ, B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 


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PRINTED BT J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANT 
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS 
PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. 



©Ci.A506676 


TO DICKY 

WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR THE 
FREEDOM OF THE SEAS 


NOTE 

Several chapters appeared originally 
in Sea Power and are included in the 
book by kind permission of the Editor. 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I, A Seaman 13 

II. A Warrant Officer 49 

III. A Junior Officer 74 

IV. A Division Officer 92 

V. A Staff Officer no 

VI. A Gunnery Officer 130 

VII. First Lieutenant 150 

VIII. A Chief Engineer 171 

IX. A Navigator 192 

X. An Executive Officer 216 

XI. A Captain 240 

XII. An Admiral 264 






ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

North Atlantic Fleet Cruising in Column Frontispiece 

“You’re a Green Btmch of Kids, Don't Forget It for a Moment”. 27 

The Novelty of Scrubbing Decks in the Crisp Mornings Soon Wore 
Off ; 37 

A Job the Boatswain Bosses: “But, Believe Me, When There’s a 
Real Chore Afloat, Then It’s Bill the Bos’n They Scream For ” 59 

Dummy Loading Drill: One Had to Know the Stuff Before One 
Could Handle Guns or Men or Ships 81 

Early Next Morning He Found That He was Assigned to a 14-inch 
Gim Division as the Junior Officer 81 

Targets Must Be Shifted, and All in Seas that Came to Lick Chilled 

Men from the Slippery Rafts 96 

Quarters Came at Nine. Each Division Lined Up in Its Part of 

the Ship and Was Mustered by the Boatswain’s Mate in Charge 96 

The Alaska was in Column Third Behind the Flagship. Exactly 
500 Yards Astern was Another Man-of-War, All Tearing 
Along at Something Like Eighteen Knots loi 

Spring Had Been Full of Fleet Work, Battle Problems at Sea, 
and So-forth loi 

He Loved the Bridge and Signalling, and Made a Point of Keeping 
Up with Fleet Maneuvers as Each New Development Came 
into Force 124 

’Twas a Drill of the Ships. Yet in No Way were Their Gliding 
Movements to be Compared to the Awkward Angularity of 
Troops. Rather was it Like Some Graceful Square Dance 
on the Sparking Lawn of the Sea 126 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Splashes from Big Guns are 300 Feet High. The Target Visible 
over the Man's Right Arm is Several Hundred Yards Astern 
of the Towing Ship 130 

Men Would Train for a Station at the Guns as if Billed to Rim a 

Championship Quarter-mile in the Intercollegiate Games 145 

Coaling Ship is the One Barbarous Custom Left in the Navy- 
Coal is Dumped on Deck, Shovelled into Wheelbarrows, and 
Carried to the Bunker Holes 158 

In Front of the Formation Squatted the Grotesque Figure of a 

Small Black Bear 181 

On the Day of Commissioning the Crew had been Marched Aboard 
Twelve Hundred Strong and Had Fallen In at Their Parts of 
the Ship in an Orderly Manner 228 

Have You Red Blood? Then You Know 240 

The Coal Burners Smoked Madly to Hold Position, and Their 
Bow Waves were Like Froth on the Bit of a Racer 282 

The Flagship Heaved as Though Torpedoed, and Two Hundred Tons 
of Steel in Half-ton Chunks Charged Screaming for the 
Enemy who Dared Violate Our Seas 289 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


I 

A SEAMAN 

What a pity it is that upon our arrival in this world 
we do not each bear a label indicating the future value 
and occupation that we shall be called upon to fill. Think 
of the preparedness made possible. Imagine the con- 
venience to hard-up parents straining to make the boy a 
minister when Fate knows all too well he’s bound im- 
swerving for the floorwalker’s garish aisles. Picture the 
years of content of an ageing couple who have known 
from the day of his birth that their dissolute son is bound 
to perform a moral flip-flop and become the great evange- 
list of the period. Future failures and the good, who 
must needs die young, might tax the ingenuity of a soft- 
hearted dispenser of heavenly fate. But surely modern 
spirits have mastered something of that cryptic am-^ 
biguity which convinces sanguine natures Sam Hill’s Pale 
Pills are unsurpassed. 

John Migg’s infant pinkness bore no such oracular 
patch. Nor did nearly eighteen long years of living give 
13 


CLEAE THE DECKS ! 


the slightest hint of what such a prophecy might have 
foretold. For him the future was a dark and unsolved 
riddle. Yet he personally would never concede as much. 
On the contrary, there was probably no one else in the 
high school graduating class who had clearer ideas of 
what he intended to do when the Old Man loosened 
up and gave him a stake. 

Then you’re going to leave town ? ” asked one of his 
cronies whose plans were of even greater vagueness. 

For answer Migg drew himself up a full if rather 
lank six feet and bared a stringy forearm. “ See this, 
don’t you? ” By a peculiar digital distortion the stringi- 
ness was greatly accentuated. “ Well, Mister Higgins 
told me if I’d spend another summer on his ranch he’d 
make me a kind of foreman. Says I’m way above the 
average on the roundups and with a little extra weight 
I could lick any roughneck in the shacks.” 

But who wants to spend his life in Texas?” was 
the bored query in sharp contrast to the other’s glowing 
depiction of his powers. 

How’s to let me finish. You remember Ray Higgins, 
don’t you? Visited me that summer. Well, he and I 
are going to get a year’s pay and start off. He knows a 
man who went into the Klondike with nothing and came 
out rich. There’s a place south of the Upper Yukon 


14 


A SEAMAN 

which hasn’t been touched. And even if we don’t make 
good there’s always wash gold on top — at least enough 
to get out of the country.” 

“ And then where’re you going ? ” continued the 
crony with subtle sarcasm. 

Oh, maybe South America, or down that ways. I 
could always make a living in the country after sum- 
mers here. You know our Indiana farms are the most 
scientific in the world.” 

And then I suppose you’ll be off to Australia, and 
charter a ship for the Malay peninsula where the price 
of white elephants will stake you into ” 

'' Cut it ! ” Migg’s tones were savage as a mother’s 
whose child has been mocked. For a moment the pair 
eyed one another sullenly. But Migg’s jaw was square 
for his years, so he won; and he had the satisfaction of 
seeing the other’s back fade into the drugstore behind 
him. 

On his way home a strange uneasiness replaced the 
former assurance of his plans. As to their practicality 
he was never for a moment concerned. Their achieve- 
ment, however, was a matter of grave doubt. Migg’s 
father personified that doubt. Not that he inspired any 
extraordinary fear or reverent love in his son. Modern 
sons suffer too much dispersion of emotion for any 


15 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


great fire of loyalty before maturity. But he had been a 
deciding factor for too many years to be overlooked in 
this crisis. There was, for instance, the money question. 
The old man had told Migg he ran less than three thou- 
sand dollars a year in the little office. But between a 
younger sister and brother to be clothed and fed, and a 
mother none too well, there was something of a problem 
confronting Migg and his father when the subject of 
college education came up. The former displayed no 
marked enthusiasm when the offer of five hundred dol- 
lars a year for four years was made. He had no false 
desires for social or athletic distinctions. Indeed the 
local bush league had bid for his pitching arm twice in a 
year and had dubbed him a tango-lizard for turning them 
down. As a matter of fact, he despised dances and 
preferred broncos to running bases. If he could only 
get away on his own hook! Yet there were always the 
basic values of an education, together with the prof- 
fered money, woven like a wire mesh across his resolu- 
tions to cut adrift. 

While he swung along at the awkward gait of over- 
grown eighteen years a heavy bulldog trotted at his 
heels. Suddenly in the midst of his reflections a brown 
streak shot from the porch of a house he was passing. 
There was a double snap and a sharp half-broken howl 


16 


A SEAMAN 


as the bulldog rolled into the gutter death-clinched with 
a beautiful Scotch collie. 

Migg stopped in his tracks. The rolling tearing mass 
of dog flesh must have appealed to every brute instinct 
in him. And it was his dog fighting. Yet his face 
scarcely hardened. He simply waited to see where he 
was needed, when, and why. 

His cue came from the porch. “ Oh-h-h! ” in half a 
scream. A slender girl dashed down the narrow walk. 

Stop them ! ” she cried, with difficulty making herself 
heard above the tumult. 

Migg* answered with a look which must have gone 
very deep. She clutched his arm. It’s not for me — — ” 
she wailed. 

Migg only smiled. Then in a stride he was bending 
over the madness of animal anger. “ Jim ! ” he com- 
manded sharply to the bull. For the flicker of a second 
the dog’s attention was diverted. Quicker than sight 
Migg thrust the collie down. By his disengaged hand 
he yanked his own dog clear and with surprising strength 
threw him a dozen yards across the pavement. 

Without bothering to receive the ready plaudits of 
the girl Migg turned and whistled his way down the 
street. 

“ Like a woman,” he told himself sagely, “ to turn a 


2 


17 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


man down because she thinks he’s not a nmn; and then, 
first crack, call on him for a man’s job.” He picked a 
loose stone from the walk and threw it accurately at a 
comer fire-plug. Anyhow, she means nothing to me 
now.” 

And she didn’t for many a day. 

An ice-cream delivery wagon stood in front of his 
house as Migg opened the gate. ‘‘ Ha, company for sup- 
per,” he predicted. And accurately, too. On the steps 
sat his father fanning himself with a straw hat distinctly 
out of date. Opposite him was a dark man apparently 
explaining something with great enthusiasm. He looked 
up as Migg came along the walk. His face was very 
tanned and his eyes penetrating. His manner and dress 
though unobtrusive were undoubtedly eastern. 

This is my son.” The father had visible grounds 
for the pride in his voice. John, we have the honor of 
entertaining Lieutenant Willis of the United States 
Navy. He is here for a few days on recruiting duty.” 

There proved to be a magnetic friendliness about the 
man that drew Migg to him. No doubt his well set up 
body and thick shoulders had their weight in Migg’s 
estimation. But the truth was more intangible. The 
lieutenant had that ease and understanding towards 
younger men which only long intercourse with men can 


18 


A SEAMAN 


give. And the authority of his rank served to empha- 
size his strength without making him the least bit uppish. 

With rare tact he got back to his professional subject. 
Not that he solicited Migg’s attention. Rather did he 
concede the interest our great naval service must have to 
all the youth of the nation. 

Do you know/’ he said with boyish simplicity, I 
never get over the pleasure of coming back to a real 
town. I mean the kind one lives in before he goes away 
for good.” 

Migg looked at him blankly. “ You mean with all 
your chance to travel you’re glad to land in a dull hole 
like this? ” 

So quickly had the fish risen that Willis must chuckle 
before he replied. ‘‘ You’re like the rest of us, are 
you? Can’t wait to rush out of the home you’ve not 
yet realized how you love.” 

Migg’s expression brushed the sentiment away as a 
hand might clear cobwebs from a sensitive face. But 
the navy goes round the world doesn’t it?” said he. 

Some parts of it do. I’ve circumnavigated this 
little globe nearly three times since I graduated from the 
Naval Academy. Like to see a picture of my ship?” 
He fumbled in his pocket for a moment. “ Miserable 
finger of mine won’t work half the time. No, not a wound. 

19 


CLEAR THE DECKS 


Smashed it my first cruise out in Madeira. Perhaps 
youVe heard of the stone toboggan in Funchal — half way 
down the mountain and smoother than ice. Some of us 
were racing.’^ 

Migg’s eyes glistened at this exhibition of geographi- 
cal nonchalance, if such it may be called. ‘‘ And you 
must have been out in the Pacific, too/’ he observed 
almost with a kind of reverence. 

Again Willis laughed. He was used to this attitude — 
that the naval profession is a means of conveying ad- 
venturous youths about the world. But rarely had he 
found it so sincere as in Migg. And never was the 
practical side of a wanderlust so completely obscured. 
Migg would be a feather in the cap of any recruiting 
officer. But Willis realized how easily the glamour of the 
navy can be used to blindfold youths while they are led 
to the slaughter of their* souls. 

‘T believe you would love the life,”he observed feel- 
ing his way. '' But you must not go into it just for the 
travel.” 

Mr. Migg took his glasses off and wiped them. 

There seems to be a conspiracy/’ he said wearily, “ to 
take my son away from me. If it isn’t college it’s a Texas 
ranchman, or a broken down Klondike prospector. For 
the lad’s good I am willing to submit to most anything. 

20 


A SEAMAN 


But I feel it my duty to see he wakes up on his twenty- 
fifth birthday with a knowledge of men and the world, 
and the physical and nervous health to put that knowledge 
into useful enterprise/^ 

Lieutenant Willis held up the small photograph of a 
battleship. She loomed up huge and gray over nearby 
shipping, and across her decks could be seen the white 
dots of her crew. Here is the epitome of your desire. 
A modern man-of-war is the finest combination of uni- 
versity, sanitarium, and summer hotel the world has ever 
seen. And it has the advantage over all three in that 
there are no invalids aboard, no liquor, no women, and 
no alarm clocks.” 

But I thought they had to get up at five?^’ put 
in Migg. 

They do. But if it’s habit to rise with the sun and 
a man is bulging with a bluejacket’s health there’s no 
need to boost him out of his hammock. He’s so keen 
for the hot coffee and the fun of the morning’s work that 
he wouldn’t sleep on if he could.” 

But what do you mean by it’s being a university? ” 
inquired the more practical father. 

I refer to the courses of instruction through which 
every man must pass. Officers hold regular classes and 
specially fitted ones lecture on subjects not entirely in 


21 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


line with ship work. Mathematics and navigation follow 
a brushing up on simpler lines. Gunnery and engineer- 
ing include a good deal of chemistry and electricity. And 
actual professional study ranges from physiology to steel 
design, through all the multitude of side branches. 

^^And do they draw pay at the same time?’' asked 
Migg with a sudden recollection of his Alaskan gold mine. 

‘‘ I was coming to that. It is particularly important 
because people run down the small pay of the navy. As 
a deck hand you would average about forty dollars a 
month. Rather small compared to good work ashore. 
But think of what goes with it. You receive a complete 
outfit of clothing on enlisting. Your board and lodging 
are absolutely free. If you are sick there are doctors and 
a hospital aboard. Seriously ill means you will be sent 
to any one of the splendid naval hospitals along the coast. 
Little details like dentists and libraries and moving pic- 
tures are yours by right of being a navy man. And if 
you die the government pays a life insurance which has 
cost you practically nothing.’^ 

The father was impressed. But Migg had a faraway 
look in his eyes which the keener navy man did not fail 
to notice. What counted after all to him was the thrill 
of going to sea. 

The boy rose abruptly and went into the house. He 


22 


A SEAMAN 


had a wild desire to enlist that very night. But a kind of 
pride kept him from giving in so suddenly. 

Mr. Migg/’ the lieutenant began after the screen 
door had slammed, don’t think I’m trying to shanghai 
your boy. He is the kind that needs men. He needs 
work, good hard employment of those beautiful muscles I 
could see under his shirt. A college will only soften 
them. The few picked intimates there will only soften 
him. Let us have him for a four year cruise and see if 
any college man in his class would equal him in all the 
things that go to make up a man.” 

Of course, it ended by Migg’s enlisting. The recruit- 
ing doctor congratulated him on his fine physique, and 
the yeoman found unholy joy in answering his solemn 
queries about duty in China and the South Seas. But 
his orders read to Naval Training Station, Newport, 
Rhode Island ” which was famed neither for its vol- 
canoes nor its cannibals. 

His stay at the station was brief. There was a need 
of men in the fleet and apprentice boys were shipped 
two hundred at a clip. Their few weeks at preliminary 
instruction only broke them into ship routine and gen- 
eral regulations about cleanliness and health. 

Migg was quickly established. Most of the recruits 
were about his own age. He seemed older, though. 


23 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


That his expression was habitually inscrutable was his 
heritage. That he could keep it so under strain was a 
bit of the good he had got from the ranch life out west. 
In fact, it was this faculty to stop and think in a crisis 
that had recommended him so strongly to the ranch 
owner as material for boss of his men. 

Under a broiling Texas sun Migg had found a shaved 
head best. As sharp demands of the new discipline re- 
minded him of former comfort he had himself clipped 
at the first opportunity. 

Oh, you convict! ” was the greeting he got from the 
noisy gang outside quarters. 

Migg smiled appreciatively and agreed to the likeness. 
But he knew horse play was in order. So when a pair 
of huskies sidled up for a knuckle rub at his cropped skull 
he met them with quick artion. Naturally they persisted. 

“ Sandpaper him! ” yelled someone. 

“Try it,” Migg invited, still smiling, and by this 
time very busy with the largest of his assailants. 

Up to this moment the game had been just a pushing 
roughness. Then Migg, hard pressed, took a Texas bit- 
hold on the jaw of the boy nearest him. Instantly he 
felt a sharp blow in his groin. The young scoundrel had 
driven a knee upwards with dangerous force. 


24 


A SEAMAN 


Like a spring released Migg stiffened. His smile did 
not contract but also stiffened till there was the tenseness 
of a threat in the parted lips. It wasn’t the pain. Nor 
was there any sign of fear. A cowardly blow had been 
struck. Yet even in his hidden flame of resentment Migg 
wished to be sure. 

^^Back!” he snapped, so sharply that the boisterous 
group loosed their hold and fell away a pace. That is, 
all but the one who remained in Migg’s iron grip. He 
struggled and tried to strike, but without success. 

‘‘You struck below the belt! ” Migg announced loud 
enough for the others to hear. “ Where I come from we 
don’t scrap that way.” With a quick movement he threw 
the boy from him. 

There was no fight. Followed not even a dispute. 
A keen observer might have noticed a slight embarrass- 
ment in the conversation for the ensuing minutes. And 
yet, without realizing it, Migg had passed through what 
was possibly the crisis of his naval career. 

Once in the life of each man who follows the sea 
there comes the moment when before the eyes of his com- 
panions he will show of what stuff he is made. Not al- 
ways does he have to fight to prove that he can. Nor 
does he, maybe, need even display superhuman courage, 
or nerve, or any particular efficiency. All may be latent 


25 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


in his heart, which after all, is but that of a young ani- 
mal. But there are very definite though always inde- 
finable reactions which the sterling character makes in 
moments of stress. So it is we mark a gentleman or a 
cad. But most of all a man. 

Without either Migg or the others realizing the fact 
he had proved himself a Man. 

An old cruiser took the draft of two hundred to the 
fleet. Migg’s first view of that great column of sea- 
monsters lying heavily in the Roads branded his memory 
with a kind of dread. He would have laughed had any- 
one said the spectacle of twenty-five battle ships at anchor 
could intimidate him. Yet their towering gray sides, 
gunned and armored, supporting on their shoulders squat 
broad turrets of steel, were symbols of a deadly power 
that man must recognize on sight. And Migg’s bravado, 
as that of any swaggering tar, was only the instinct of an 
imperious trainer. His — ^their — ^brute charges were the 
sea, steam, guns of terrific force, and all the subtleties of 
electricity. To a degree they were his servants. As lord 
and master he was justly proud. Only heaven help him 
should he misjudge their mood. For, granting oppor- 
tunity, any one of them — sea, steam, powder or elec- 
tricity— could destroy the fleet in the twinkling of an eye. 

26 




THE NOVELTY OF SCRUBBING DECKS IN THE CRISP MORNINGS SOON 

WORE OFF 


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A SEAMAN 


So if Migg and his fellows lacked boldness as they 
lined on the warship’s quarterdeck it was only their con- 
sciousness of others better qualified to scorn their inex- 
perience. For instance: 

You’re a green bunch of kids. Don’t forget it for a 
moment. Them hammocks is to be fumigated in sick bay. 
Bags, too; and ditty boxes for them as hez ’em. But 
once out they’re to be clean as the champeens of a trophy 
ship demand.” 

The chief boatswain’s mate, having delivered himself 
of this welcome, drew aside for a word with the young 
lieutenant in charge. That one on the end,” he said in 
a half whisper, “ is just what we need for our left plug.” 

The officer approached Migg. Been inside a 
turret ? ” 

‘‘No sir.” In fact, Migg was not even sure what a 
turret was. In later months after the monotony of long 
grinding drills in the armored gun-coops he used to smile 
at the recollection of his ignorance. 

Indeed, even with what Migg had learned at New- 
port he found himself pitiably lacking in everything that 
goes to make up the work and life aboard a great vessel 
of war. It turned out though, that the lucky notice he 
had received the first day put him with a good turret 
division. Almost immediately he fell in as understudy 


27 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


for handling the plug on the right fourteen-inch gun. 
This job required strength and agility as well as a clear 
head. The steel plug weighing 1840 pounds must be 
unscrewed and swung to the rear after each discharge. 
Migg’s fitness and consequent good fortune in receiving 
extra training was analogous to that of a promising candi- 
date for halfback arriving at a college where the left 
half is about to graduate. Migg’s predecessor was about 
to go up into the rank of a chief petty officer. 

The novelty of scrubbing decks in the crisp morn- 
ings soon wore off. Not that it was any less fun. But 
there was more opportunity to look about. 

“Here you, turn to with that squilgee!’' came a 
harsh voice in his ear one morning. He had been watch- 
ing a fat Swede make fumbling efforts to lash whale- 
boat spars together on the skid deck. 

Migg turned quickly and found the young ensign 
who was junior officer of the deck glaring at him. “ But 
he's messing it all up," was his protest in pleasant tones. 

“ Mind your own business. And say ‘ sir ' when you 
address an officer." The words were cutting and tinged 
with anger. 

For once Migg's ability to size up a situation with- 
out resentment or any sign of appreciation of his antag- 
onist's emotions was against him. He didn't realize the 


28 


A SEAMAN 


young officer’s craving for obedience of more than bare 
action. He felt rather than saw the pang of jealous 
wrath which smote this youthful tyrant when his com- 
mands failed to elicit proper humility. So he made a 
fateful mistake. Very quietly he laid down his '' squee- 
gee ” and, without a word, clambered up to the Swede 
and tied his knots for him. 

The ensign was for a moment speechless with fury. 
That he should be mocked with silence then disobeyed 
was too much for his idea of what dignity and rank de- 
manded. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure what he ought to 
say or do, that is, while the suspense of Migg’s insolence 
still held. Suddenly his voice returned. 

You — you lubber! ” he bawled. You lowbrowed, 

rubber-eyed recruit — come down out of that and ” 

To his dismay Migg ran along the narrow beading 
overhead and dropped with a smack of bare feet to the 
wet deck. Scant inches from the officer he stood, the 
original inscrutable Migg. 

But inscrutability has its limitations as a weapon. 
“ Come with me! ” ordered the ensign, his voice not yet 
under control. He turned and led the way toward the 
officer of the deck’s booth. The door opened and Lieu- 
tenant Striper, Migg’s divisional officer, stepped out. 


29 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


Oh-ho ! ” exclaimed that rakish looking individual — 
he was barefooted, hat on the back of his head, and 
carried a cup of black coffee in one hand and a piece of 
thickly buttered toast in the other. And what might 
my swabo Migg be doing this luscious morning? ” 

There was the faintest twinkle in Striper’s eye which 
was reflected even more faintly in Migg’s keen blue ones. 
The ensign was too wroth for such subtleties of 
expression. 

'' He’s an impudent recruit, sir,” blurted the junior 
watch offlcer. I gave him a distinct order and he not 
only failed to obey but went ahead and did exactly what 
I ” 

He got no further. To the astonishment of the mis- 
creant and his captor the lieutenant threw back his head 
and emitted a frightful roar. At the distance of the 
break of the forecastle this roar meant ‘'heave up!” 
But its throaty tones were of such volume as almost to 
deafen the pair before him. 

Quickly Striper took advantage of the break he had 
caused. “ Here, sir,” he blustered to the ensign, “ get 
those loafers to tail on properly. We’ve got to have that 
boat unloaded before breakfast.” And, in a fierce voice, 
he added : “ Leave this villain to me.” 


30 


A SEAMAN 


Thus tactfully having disposed of the hot-headed 
ensign Striper proceeded to interview Migg. How long 
have you been in the service ? 

^‘•Nearly two months/’ was the recruit’s respectful 
reply. 

‘‘ Uh-huh; so you don’t stick on your ‘ sirs/ do you? 
Then it must be true then that you got fresh with your 
superior officer as he reported. Do you know what that 
means ? ” 

But there was no shade of truculence in the officer’s 
voice. And let it be to Migg’s credit that he immedi- 
ately became outwardly normal, in contrast to his stoni- 
ness during the brush with the outraged ensign. By an 
obscure internal effort he perceived his error. 

‘‘ Yes, sir,” he admitted, “ I think I was. He rubbed 
me pretty hard the wrong way, and I felt sort of violent 
for a moment. That’s why I went up and did some- 
thing — it gave me a chance to cool off.” 

“ Migg,” said Striper slowly, I saw the whole 
thing. You have both told the truth. But neither of 
you knows the exact truth. Did it ever occur to you 
that a young officer is very little beyond the recruit? He 
knows equally little about his own job. Book learning 
can’t give him the power to command men. I’m not try- 
ing to run down our junior officers. I’m speaking to 


31 


CLEAE THE DECKS 1 


you as man to man. And it’s for their good as much i 
as yours. Do you get me?” j 

Though the ideas were disjointed Migg thought he 1 
saw, and nodded. 

“ Now that young man graduated almost on the very !i 
day you enlisted. He knows how to measure the torsion jf 
on a propeller shaft and can work a Marc St. Hilaire ji 
of the moon with both hands tied behind him. So, may |[ 
I say, that after your period at the training station you i 
can tie a Mattie Walker with both eyes shut and stow | 
your ditty bag with the accuracy of a Chinese puzzle in j 
place. But at obeying him you’re just as big a dunce as | 
he is at commanding you.” || 

The lieutenant paused as if for comment. Migg did j: 
have an objection on the tip of his tongue. “ But this 
was very early in the morning,” said he. |: 

Ah, I grant you that. Yet for each moment of the 'J 
day the sailorman has his moods. And the officer has | 
his. But the officer must know and master those of his j 
men to such a degree that he can drive them without irri- ' 
tation. Your sleepiness here on deck at five a.m. is little i 
less difficult to handle than your bored weariness in the , 
stuffy turret at eleven a.m. loading <irill. And goodness | 
knows I dread the first hour after a heavy dinner in the ! 
general mess when you men are so logy with food that a 


32 


A SEAMAN 


slave driver couldn’t -budge you. And there are after- 
noon watches, and night drills, and so on.” 

“ But after all he has only to give an order and it 
must be obeyed,” Migg put in, still a shade incredulous. 

‘‘ That’s where you are wrong. No Skipper wants an 
officer who has to drive his men. No executive likes to 
have a long report list at the mast each day. Desira- 
bility in their eyes is the quality of that officer who can 
lead his bunch, can guide them into correct paths, but 
at the same time draw them up with a stiff hand when 
there’s an emergency. You men have got to learn to 
obey to the letter. But equally have the officers got to 
master the art of giving no unnecessary orders. Now 
you apologize to my junior officer of the deck and I’ll 
let you go on the grounds of your newness.” 

But Migg was not entirely* convinced. It seemed too 
preposterous that he must come to jump at the word of 
any man who happened to be an officer. There was the 
pure physical injustice of it. Two out of three of them 
he could whip in a fair fight ; at least he told himself so, 
not knowing that every Naval Academy graduate is master 
of scientific boxing. 

The very next day, however, he saw the other side. 
The ship had gone on the range for short distance target 
practice to determine the relative efficiency of individual 


3 


33 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


turrets. There was high feeling between crews and con- 
siderable money had been put up in secret. Betting is 
directly against the law. 

Striper was knee-braced in his little steel booth in rear 
of the guns. The groups in front of him posed ready at 
their various details. Rammerman, carman, and pow- 
derhandlers faced the great shiny breech, while Migg bal- 
anced himself on a small shelf at one side. He gripped 
the long crank handle by which he was to open the gun 
for the brief period of inserting powder and shell. 

‘‘ Stand by ! sung out Striper. 

The crew stiffened. Motors started noisily. And deep 
in the pit under the gun could be heard the weird thump 
and pound of shell and powder punctuated by the shrill 
voices of pointers coaching each other on the target. 

‘‘ Load!^’ 

Migg leaped into action. The plug spun and opened 
outward. Half a ton of steel shot into the gaping breech 
followed by four hundred pounds of powder. Smack ! 
the plug closed and all hands stood clear for the concussion. 

It came thimderingly. 

Instantly Migg jumped. Not a tenth of an inch did 
the huge gun’s three foot recoil miss his bare shoulder. 
But his eyes had been trained to save him just that closely. 

Again a shell slammed home. Powder bags thudded 
34 


A SEAMAN 


on the tray and whisked in after the projectile. Migg 
crouched for his act. But, just as his muscles tautened 
for the swing, he stopped dead. 

Silence!’’ 

The cry was sharp and clear above the racking noise 
of machinery. It was from Striper and signified stop 
everything. Which sounds simple enough. But in turret 
competition every second counts. And when one has half 
a month’s pay on the fraction of a minute he is not going 
to delay without due cause. 

But this was a command. And these were trained 
men. Dollars, fear of death itself, could not have bribed 
them into disobedience. Striper held their lives in his 
hand. In half their dangerous work aboard ship he 
shouldered this responsibility. That’s what being an 
officer meant. And the men felt better so. 

Migg’s effort had been even greater than the others. 
His period of training had been too short for him to 
react with instantaneous submission. But he acted. 
Fro'zen, he stood ready for the next word. 

“ Wipe the plug,” ordered Striper quietly. Migg 
reached down for his sponge. He started to say that he 
had sponged the hot face first time. But something in the 
silence held him. 


35 


CLEAR THE DECKS ! 


A gasp from the powderman just below startled him. 
And, as his hand went under the mushl^)om face, he 
realized something afire was there. 

Look for yourself,’' commanded Striper. “ That 
last salvo left a wad of smouldering powderbag stuck on 
the lower lip of the plug. Had you closed up you’d set the 
charge off in the gun — set it off before you’d have a 
fair chance to screw home. And the crowd of us would 
have been in heaven by now.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

And incidentally,” he added, I guess you see now, 
Migg, what it means to obey. A second’s pig-headedness 
on your part and you’d have blown this end of the ship 
off.” 

Another thing Migg discovered about his officers was 
that their authority existed only for the purposes of 
carrying forward the progress of naval matters. In the 
daily classes on the cool gun-deck he and his shipmates 
received friendly instruction that the best tutor in the 
land could not have made more interesting or lucid. Also 
in matters of leave, for example, when his father was ill, 
he received consideration and sympathy. 

His build and a certain amount of past experience soon 
brought him into prominence in the boxing lists. And 
there again under the flickering arc of a ship’s smoker- 

S6 


A SEAMAN 


light, surrounded by a thousand officers and men he fought 
his way into real prominence. On the night he went into 
the finals for middleweight championship of the North 
Atlantic Fleet bouts were held on the flagship. A clean 
fight it was, too. The Commander-in-Chief and several 
other admirals were present with all their staffs, re- 
splendent in white summer uniforms and insignia of gold. 

“ Ga-lang ! '' went the gong for the final round. Migg’s 
lithe body, bare except for narrow trunks and glistening 
with water, sprang into the ring. With crashing blows 
the pair went at each other. So fast they struck, side 
stepped, and countered, that the eye could not follow. 
Both dripped blood from battered noses. Also both 
smiled grimly at each extra heavy smash. 

‘‘ Ga-lang! ’’ and the fight was done. A roar of ap- 
plause nearly split the wide awning overhead. The referee 
— Migg^s Mr. Striper himself — jumped between the ex- 
hausted gladiators. He raised the hand of one aloft. 

It wasn’t Migg’s hand, either. 

“ Another time, Migg! ” rang out a hoarse prophecy 
from one of the back benches. And the cheering began 
again. 

But best of all was due from the officer’s gallery. 
The Big Admiral was on his feet. He was clapping vigor- 
ously. And the look he gave Migg was the appreciation 


37 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


of a man for a man. Rank for the moment was swept 
away. Migg saw and understood. 

But play times came none too often. There were 
weeks when no man aboard touched foot to the beach. 
Whole days of coaling ship when the ship’s company 
fought to the death with two thousand tons of heart- 
breaking suffocating coal dust. A month on end of such 
gunnery drill that the grind of a penitentiary’s rock 
pile would have shrunk from the very cruelty of it. Long 
cross country marches with the landing force ashore. 
Grim mid-watches when a whole fleet slipped across the 
black night, the darkened ships like shadows of lost 
spirits. And so on interminably, until Migg wondered 
whether he would survive to become the machine his train- 
ing aimed him for. 

He came to know one of the black gang, a great 
double-fisted fireman. Together, heels swinging from the 
barbette, they used to discuss the philosophy of it all. 

“ The trouble with you, Migg,” the boiler man would 
say, is that you don’t come down to earth often enough. 
Now me, I’ve got a girl. She and I are going to be 
married. But first I have to lay hold of the spondulix. 
So I gets this navy job. I goes into the fireroom be- 
cause next comes engines and dynamos. With them comes 
the best machine shop in the fleet. And first thing you 
38 


A SEAMAN 


know Vm good for a hundred plus outside. Two years 
and a hut to do, come July.’’ 

Migg’s answer was usually the same: If we only 
knew how we were going to end ! ” 

Great guns, fellow, a horse like you has no cause 
to worry. Here you’re due for a petty officer’s rate next 
fall, coxswain or gunner’s mate. That means good money. 
You’ll maybe be a chief this cruise. If you could only 
get an appointment to Annapolis you’d be fixed for all 
time.” 

But Migg shook his head with another “ If I only 
knew,” and gave up planning as a bad job. 

The Annapolis suggestion took root. Not that he 
sought to Spend his life in the navy, but so many, many 
times did he itch to boss the odd j obs he saw, as he thought, 
poorly executed on deck. And there would be more 
chance to broaden out as an officer. To be sure he had 
found the West Indies pleasant in winter and the brief 
cruise through the Mediterranean had filled his heart with 
even greater longing to see the world. But he would have 
certain advantages of money and position that made the 
prospect worth working for. 

He was on the point of writing to his father for in- 
formation one Sunday morning when his attention was 


39 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


arrested by a newcomer’s loud voice. Scrimley was his 
name, a seaman transferred from one of the small cruisers. 

“ You bet I don’t plan to stick around long as any 
seaman. They’re going to send me to the Navy School.” 
Who the they ” were he did not make quite clear. 

Migg joined the amused group gathered about the 
braggart. Something in the man’s voice and manner 
aroused in him a vague memory of other days. 

Why, hello there, Squiggy ! ” cried Scrimley. 

Then Migg knew him — ^the school boy nickname 
brought back his old enmities against a certain police ser- 
geant in the home town. This was his son. 

“ So you are going to Annapolis ? ” Migg laughed 
with a special effort to bury the past. 

“ Sure pop ! ” 

“ But I thought they usually gave you a competitive 
exam with other candidates, and the one making high 
mark got in.” 

‘‘ Well,” admitted the buoyant Scrimley, I suppose 
there will be some other ginks try for it. But my dad’s 
in with the congressman and I’m the bird picked ahead 
of time to win.” 

Which was true — to a degree. Migg sent a tele- 
gram to his father. Understand our representative has 


40 


A SEAMAN 

appointment to Annapolis,” it ran. What chance 
have I?” 

The answer was terse and to the point. Try,” was 
all it said. 

So Migg sent a line post-haste to the Congressman 
and learned that candidates from his district would receive 
a full competitive examination on the first of the follow- 
ing month. Scrimley was the favored applicant to date 
because this particular member of congress had reached 
the present-day point of view in admiring the lad who 
entered at the bottom of the navy and worked up. 

I’m going, too,” announced Migg next morning as 
he and Scrimley polished the starboard monkey-heads. 

“ You mean you’re out for that appointment? -But 
what do you know to get you in ? ” 

“ Four years at high school and a spell in the west 
to put beef on me. And I’ve spent my extra time with this 
corking ship’s library aboard.” Migg’s catalogue would 
have continued had not a boatswain’s mate passed the 
word for a working party just then. 

Migg didn’t exaggerate. He knew the general re- 
quirements demanded of those who would enter the finest 
naval school in the world. And he knew that, barring 
accident, there was none better fitted than himself to win 
that honor. He had been through the standard mathe- 


41 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


matics, had covered geography not only in the books but * 
on shipboard as well. His love for reading had carried ; 
him into the realms of good literature. And he was , 
provided with a physical equipment of bone and sinew ; 
founded on the western hills and plains and on the i 
violent demands of a bluejackef s life^ at sea. i 

One obstacle stood in his way. Fair minded as he was f 
he failed to see it in time. Scrimley for all his boasting 
was shrewd and, as proved later, entirely unscrupulous. 
He recognized Migg’s ability at once. And he deter- 
mined to thwart his plans for capturing the appointment. 

His first attack came before Migg even knew he had 
an enemy. The division were engaged in painting their 
parts of the ship. Migg and several others perched aloft 1 
on the 'turret roof spreading the thick gray mess over the j 
steel plating. Migg’s assigned area was just over the 1 
quarterdeck, the formal front porch of the commanding 
officer. 

He could never discover who called his name. He 
jumped up and ran to the other side. Finding that no 
one wanted him he returned to his task. The bucket had j 
disappeared. To his horror there spread on the beauti- I 
ful white deck below a pool of paint. Beside, upturned, | 
was his bucket bearing the name ‘‘ Migg ” in large con- 
demning letters. 


42 


A SEAMAN 


While he sat stunned at the catastrophe a large man 
emerged from the after hatch. It was the skipper. In- 
stantly he saw the desecration to his sacred precincts. 

This is outrageous ! ” he roared. Orderly, tell the 
officer of the deck I wish to see him immediately.” 

Of course, the watch officer spied Migg's name at 
once, and Migg, too, who still sat spiritless on the 
turret. 

Come down out of that,” ordered the mortified 
lieutenant. 

Migg came. And he answered the infuriation of his 
superiors with no answers that were satisfactory. He 
was searching in his mind for a clue to his misfortune. 
He knew the other two men on the turret with him had 
been perfectly square. And he was positive they had not 
moved while he was up. 

He was reported for gross carelessness and would be 
punished. But that did not shake his determination to find 
the wretch who had dumped his paint pot. 

He went to the turret top again. At once he had an 
inkling of what had happened. He clambered down into 
the turret itself. The turret captain was working on the 
sights. '' Say, Bailey,” Migg inquired, who are your 
pointers these days ? ” 

Bailey named over several. 


43 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


I 
1 

Isn’t Scrimley one? ” ' 

“ No, but he’s hot after the job. Comes in here and ; 
fools around the telescopes tryin’ to show how savey he is.” 
And wasn’t he in here this morning? ” 

Yes. The nut was worrying some of that paint ; 
gang outside by poking them with a priming rod through I 
the sight hoods.” ! 

Then Migg knew what he was up against. Scrimley | 
had deliberately got him on the report by throwing his , 
paint pot on deck. And it was notorious that candidates ! 
for the naval academy from the enlisted personnel de- i 
pended in a large measure on their conduct records. This ! 
was a distinctly black mark for Migg. , 

He sought Scrimley. If there was to be war he was 
determined to fight in the open. Look here,” said he ! 
to that smooth-tongued person, we’re both out for that 
appointment. One of us is going to get it. But I want ^ 
you to understand it’s going to be a square fight.” ; 

Scrimley laughed in an aggravating way. ‘‘ Now, 
Squiggy, you old Quaker, that’s just the way you used | 
to boil over. I told you in the beginning I was going to 
Annapolis, and you wouldn’t believe me. Well, I am.” 
His last words were a threat. 

“ Not if you’re crooked,” returned Migg between his 

44 


A SEAMAN 


teeth. And if the other’s words had been a threat, his 
were prophetic vengeance. 

But Scrimley ran true to form. No chance did he 
miss to endanger Migg’s chances for the prize, stopping 
not even at almost murderous attempts to disable him. 
For instance, Migg was painting the smokepipe. Swing- 
ing forty feet above the steel superstructure in a tiny 
bosun’s chair he did not notice the white figure below. 
Suddenly he felt the line sagging. By a quick twist he 
managed to seize one of the wire guys behind him. 
Again his pot and brush crashed to the deck while he was 
left dangling in the air. It was a narrow squeak. For- 
tunately, the watch officer saw the rigging give away 
and did not report Migg. But only Migg knew that the 
line had been cut. 

Books he had borrowed from the library disappeared 
so that he was not allowed to take out others. The divi- 
sional officer could not fail to notice that Migg’s clothing 
was not up to the mark as it had been. But Migg did 
not tell him that someone had put lye in his bucket while 
scrubbing. 

He began to feel hunted. Yet he could never fix the 
guilt on Scrimley. No doubt that rogue had been able 
to hire accomplices in his nefarious plans. It is always 
45 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


easy to find weak natures who are jealous of those as 
successful as Migg. i 

The climax came a week before the examination was ; 
to be held. A telegram arrived from Migg’s father, j 
Come home at once if you wish appointment. Bring ; 
references.’' | 

At once Migg saw that Scrimley must have been 
libelling him to the congressman. He went to his divi- 
sional officer and explained the whole thing, even down : 
to his suspicions of Scrimley — ^though he was careful 
not to name the culprit. 

‘‘ You may be right, Migg. And if you are I’d give 
my bonnet to catch that villain and hang him. At any 
rate I’m delighted to give you a letter of character ; and 
I’ll also get one from the executive officer who is an 
admirer of yours.” 

With leave papers in his hand Migg stood at the gang- 
way. To his surprise Scrimley joined him also dressed in 
liberty blues. He had somehow got wind of Migg’s in- 
tended departure and was going, too. 

Migg found his father in despair. ‘‘ The congress- 
man tells me he has heard the most disquieting rumors 
about your character 1 ” he exclaimed. 

All right. Dad,” said Migg. “ Let’s go and have a 
talk with the gentleman.” 


46 


A SEAMAN 


They discovered him in his home office, having come 
for the express purpose of settling his naval appointments. 
He looked a little dazed when Migg’s father introduced 
the tall sunburned sailorman aS' my son.’^ 

“ But — why ’’ he stammered, I understood that 

he was a runt. And that he was — I mean that he couldn't 
possibly be considered for the naval academy." He strode 
to Migg’s side and seized the lad's thick arm. ‘‘ Chris- 
topher ! " he exploded, “ what has that scoundrel been tell- 
ing me? Either he's a liar or I'm crazy ! You never dis- 
sipated in your life. You couldn't with wires like that 
on your bones ! " 

“ Well, here's my affidavit to prove you're right." 
Migg hauled out the letters from his officers. “ This one 
Lieutenant Striper wrote." 

“ Striper, did you say ? " boomed the congressman. 
“ Why he's my own nephew ; the finest man as ever sailed 
the seas ! If he's on your side I am convinced." 

Came a knock at the dooir. Here, I bet that's my 
friend Scrimley," said their host. Quick, get in the 
other room." 

It was Scrimley. He blundered out something about 
Migg to the effect that he might seem bigger and better 
than he really was. And he dilated on the wild liberties 
Migg made ashore in foreign ports. But his voice was 


47 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


thin from cigarettes and there was an unmistakable odor 
of something stronger on his breath. 

For answer to his tirade the congressman opened the' 
door opposite. Out stepped Migg and his irate father. 
Scrimley gasped. Then he turned and made hastily for 
the door. 

‘‘ Don’t stop him,” said the congressman. “ He won’t 
come back. I doubt if he even goes back to his ship. The 
navy is a big place. There are bound to be a few scoun- 
drels in it, just as in any other profession.” 

“•But oughtn’t he to be punished?” persisted the 
father. 

“ Yes, and here’s the way I’m going to do it. I have 
been unable to find candidates for Annapolis that I be- 
lieve would do credit to my district. I am free to appoint 
whom I please. Migg, the appointment is yours. You’ll 
pass the entrance examinations with flying colors.” 

And he did. 


II 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

It^s a great thing to be on your own hook. No doubt 
there may be recourse to higher authority. And few are 
the lucky devils in this sinful world who do not risk some 
retribution for their carelessness and guilt. 

But to have elbow room to fight, to know that every 
blow is for your own good or evil, constitutes most of the 
romance of this vapid life we lead. 

As a midshipman Migg was too young to know this 
fact in words. He felt it, though; and he hankered 
vaguely to test his lithe yoimg body in the heat of real 
action. Two winters at Annapolis had increased his depth 
of chest. Scientific methods of exercise were to blame 
• more than undue physical labor. For only the lad that's 
endured a navy course can appreciate what brainwork 
means. But confidence in himself had grown most. And 
it bit like an appetite into the imagination which swelled 
to bursting in his hard young head. 

Perhaps the authorities know this lurking germ of 
violence that brings such grim unrest to the stately man- 
sions of our national Naval Academy at Annapolis. If 


4 


49 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


they do, their method of patting it in pickle is about the 
neatest little trick on the entomological market. 

Summer cruises is the official designation for those 
scrumptious periods a middy looks forward to through 
the insufferable winter. He leaves in June — ^maybe a 
thousand of him leave, or five hundred, depending on the 
strength of the brigade at the time. 

Sometimes the embryo admirals are distributed 
through the fleet. Again there may be some of the roomy 
cruisers available. But best of all are the life size naval 
engagements made possible when a squadron of ancient 
battleships, some dating back to ’98, are put at the dis- 
posal of the Superintendent of the Naval Academy for 
his horde of lusty young pirates. 

That was Migg’s luck — ^at least so he considered it — 
when he packed his duffle bag and hammock aboard the 
old Massachusetts. He had heard the fleet term of 
‘‘ Crocks for such relics. And he knew this particular 
one was classed a Pre-Crock,’' as against the more 
modern Kansas type, which was a '' Super-Crock.” But 
let them talk of “ Crab Cruises,’' and like rot, no Armada 
ever put to sea with such swelling hope and spirit as lit 
Migg’s little crowded mess on the main deck of that hardy 
craft. 


50 


A WAERANT OFFICER 


Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum,” he chortled, booting 
an unsuspecting friend who was at that moment leaning 
over in a tragic effort to find a tooth-brush in a bag the 
size of a sea chest. 

To the gang’s amazement the friend jerked around 
with real anger in his face. It isn’t in the code to lose 
one’s temper for anything short of assault and battery 
with murderous intent. 

The youth was several inches taller than Migg and not 
less than twenty pounds heavier. “ You dirty hound! ” 
he exclaimed, ‘‘ you’ll pay for that.” 

Whereupon he drove a hard-clenched fist at Migg’s 
jaw. With a neat duck Migg escaped. But he stood his 
ground. As the assailant gathered momentarily for a 
second blow he found himself suddenly gripped by the 
loose cloth of his jumper above each shoulder. The next 
thing he knew he was flying through the air. He landed 
on his shoulders five feet beyond Migg and lay stunned. 

Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest,” Migg chanted, 
'' and one on the dirty deck! ” There was a chorus of 
cheers as the bully brushed himself off and limped away. 

Say, Migg, put us next to that one.” Public opinion 
demanded the formula for such prowess. 

'' Oh, it’s simple enough,” deprecated Migg with mod- 
esty rather forced. A trick I learned from that Jap we 

51 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


had plebe summer in jiu jitsu instruction. Here, one of 
you, ril explain.'' 

He stood the dummy up opposite himself. Now 

grab his shoulders so taking a handful of loose cloth. 

^^'Place your left foot between his feet. Your right foot 
goes here; not in his stomach but below and outboard, 
clear of his groin. Then it's nothing but fall backward 
dragging him with you. As he comes down heft up- 
ward with your right foot and throw him overhead. To 
slam him hard jerk smartly down on his shoulders." 

The succeeding murmur of approbation was echoed by 
all but one of the audience. He lurked in the background. 
He was an older man and wore the stripes of a com- 
mander. Neither the feat of strength nor the fracas had 
interested him. Never lost his smile," he muttered, 
studying Migg at the same time. ‘‘ Must have a level head, 
that kid — when he can fight and smile. Good build, too. 
Guess he’s the one I want." 

Whereat the commander turned and entered his cabin. 
A moment later Migg was ushered in by a rodlike marine 
orderly. ‘‘ I sent for you. Mister Migg, before you got 
too well settled. To-morrow we shall be outside the 
Capes and expect to fire our turret guns. You will join 
the tug Wampum to-night or temporary duty in learn- 
ing to handle towed targets and their gear." 


52 


A WAREANT OFFICER 


‘‘Aye, aye, sir. To whom shall I report?’’ 

“ A warrant officer is in command, Chief Boatswain 
Byng. He will see that you have a chance to steer and 
handle the outfit.” 

So before Migg knew it he was shunted off on a small 
navy tugboat, separated from his friends, and landed in a 
job about which he knew only the little he had learned on 
deck with the big ships. 

The Massachusetts hove to while her launch was low- 
ered and Migg transferred with his bag and hammock to 
the Wampum. That sturdy craft was rolling in the 
trough of the sea a mile or so to leeward. A long heavy 
target raft dangled from her stem by the tail of an arm- 
thick towing hawser. As Migg neared the tug he saw 
that a dozen men were stepping masts and rigging screens 
on the raft. 

A shift of breeze brought the sound of loud cries to 

his ears. “ Hold her, you ” The epithets — ^they 

were several and profane — were swept away on the wind. 

Migg clambered over the tug’s rail and caught his 
stuff hove up from the tossing boat. No one was in sight. 
Crossing to the other side he saw the originator of the 
disturbance he had heard braced against the little chart- 
house platform. He was a short thick man, barefooted, 

53 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

and clad in what once had been the white uniform of a 
warrant boatswain. 

Mind your halliards! he roared, and his voice was 
like a factory whistle gone hysterical. He shook a huge 
fist at the raft. Migg shivered a bit to see a creaming 
wave roll over the low structure already awash. You 
ladies’ lap-dogs 1 ” was all the sympathy the wet sailor- 
men got. Listen to me — you ain’t going to be drowned 
this year, worse luck ! ” 

But soused and dripping men are not so quick to catch 
the intricacy of rapid orders. They balanced gingerly as 
they walked back to their cleats and lines which they had 
deserted at the approach of the sea. Whereupon the 
factory whistle, audibly leaking steam, deliberately backed 
his craft full speed, then rang up four bells ahead and 
rammed the raft a blow that shook her heavy timbers 
from end to end. To a man the working party were 
thrown flat. 

As the tug’s skipper turned round with a bark of hoarse 
laughter he spied Migg below. 

‘‘ Hey, Mister, an’ who might you be? ” 

For answer Migg hesitated, then ascended by a nar- 
row ladder to the bridge. His position was delicate in 
that by his own attitude and tact would he determine the 


54 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

felicity of future intercourse with this tyrant he had just 
seen in action. 

A warrant officer in the navy rises from the ranks. 
To his class ibelong boatswains, gunners, machinists, car- 
penters, pay clerks, sailmakers, pharmacists, marine gun- 
ners, and quartermaster clerks. On board a battleship he 
is a valuable subordinate in the branch of the service to 
which his rate assigns him. After six years service he 
becomes a “ chief ’’ with increase of pay and the right to 
wear a broken stripe on his sleeve. Pay may be over 
$2400 a year. 

Those who have had adequate deck experience may be 
given command of small vessels. Chief gunners and chief 
boatswains are usually chosen. 

Migg realized that Chief Bosun Byng still ranked him. 
Also he knew that Byng knew how few would be the 
years before Migg must outfleet the whole warrant grade. 
Graduation from Annapolis was all that would be neces- 
sary, making Migg an ensign. So while on the tug as 
midshipman he might be persecuted as a fresh young cub, 
or catered to as a future superior. There was too great 
disparity of age and experience for them to join man to 
man in the strenuous job on hand. At least so it seemed 
at first. 

Good morning. Mister Byng,’’ Migg greeted. 

55 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


What? ” roared the warrant as if hailing a distant 

ship. 

“ Fve ibeen ordered to report to you for the period 
of target practice/' Migg went on, calmly ignoring the 
attempt to shake his poise. 

The heck you have ! " 

And I’d like to know where to stow my stuff/’ 
Migg’s lips had thinned by this time. Otherwise his 
rather lank and ungainly height signified no perception 
of the harsh arrogance with which his peace overtures 
were being met. 

“ The heck you would ! ” continued the parrot-like re- 
sponses, and louder than ever. 

Then Migg hesitated. Was this insolence sincere? 
He noted the man’s broad, coarse- featured face. But it 
was the coarseness of weather-beaten flesh, the hardness 
of a life-long hand-to-hand fight against the wills of 
other men. If there was cruelty it was only the brutal 
perseverance of a character unflinching in its mastery of 
self. Such is the face of one who has entered young, 
battled hard, and won. 

More than friendship hung in the balance. 

Migg smiled. Not a sheepish grin, nor any diplomatic 
smirk of insinuation. Migg was not that kind. His ex- 


56 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

pression was one of simple and quiet defiance, maybe a 
bit inscrutable to one who knew not Migg. 

In a flash Byng changed. He had found what he 
wanted. Twenty-^ve years of driving men can make 
men very simple problems. 

Come to help me tow this rubbish round the ocean? ” 
the warrant chuckled. Well there ain’t nothing like it 
at Coney for excitement. We’re on our own hook, you 
know. Don’t mean nothing to have them battleboats out 
here. What they give counts pretty small against kinky 
towlines and hurricanes. But, say, put your duds in my 
btmk and we’ll see what can be done with this herd of 
donkeys down there on our raft.” 

Fortimately Migg was not subject to seasickness. The 
tug seemed to be making violent and periodic efforts to 
work up enough swing and roll to take her clear over. 
She wasn’t topheavy, but she had so little beam that every 
trough and crest of the deepening ground swell took her 
nearly on her beams’ ends. By lunch time Migg was 
scarcely conscious of her pitching and tossing. 

Nice easy motion the old squaw’s got,” Byng gulped 
through a mouthful of boiled beef and potatoes. And 
say, fill up, son. That tussle this morning ain’t nothing 
to what we’ll get if it comes on to blow.” 


57 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


Which it did before night. In fact, the tug and tar- 
get had scarcely got straightened out on the range before 
too much sea was running to permit repair boats to shift 
the screens. 

“ Signal there, quartermaster.’’ Migg’s quick eyes had 
caught a flash of bunting at the squadron flagship’s yard- 
arm. 

Battleships return to Lynnhaven Roads,” he read 
through his long-glass. ‘‘Tug bring target at con- 
venience.” 

“ That’s it,” said Byng, “ when there’s a dirty job 
to be done it’s tugs and warrants what got to do it. 'Not 
that a regular oiflcer don’t take to the work,” he went on 
a little hastily, perhaps for Migg’s benefit. “ But they 
has to have the high-class exciting kind. There at Santi- 
ago, for instance. ’Twas as mean and dangerous a trick 
as a man could ask to take that Merrimac and sink her 
in the channel under fire. Who gets it? High officers, 
mostly. All right, I say. But when it comes to filthy 
weather, driftin’ with a buckin’ bronco of a tow, it’s the 
good old faithful warrants that holds the bag. Mind 
what I’m telling you.” 

“ But you said we were on our own hook,” Migg 
observed, meaning only to be sociable. 


58 


A JOB THE BOATSWAIN BOSSES: “BUT, BELIEVE ME, WHEN TIIERE’s A REAL CHORE AFLOAT THEN IT’s 

BILL THE BOS’n THEY SCREAM FOR” 




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A WARRANT OFFICER 


“ And I meant it, my good mate. From the way the 
glass is crawling into its hole we’re in for it. Not over 
two knots can we make with any sort oi sea, and there’s 
good thirty into the Roads.” 

“Won’t they stand by us if necessary?” 

“Stand by — your grandmother! You don’t know 
yet what it means to be a warrant. I was on the flag- 
ship last year. Good sample of a fine ship, too. Had 
the regular stunts on my slate. In charge of foc’s’le get- 
ting underway and anchoring; in general command of 
deck work about the ship, especially all boats and rig- 
ging, and the like. And I had my hands full keeping my 
peace, with the Exec, behind me to clean up and repair 
and the First Luff on my trail for extravagance.” 

The speaker rose with a grunt of reminiscent joy and 
lit a vile-smelling pipe. 

“ But believe me, when there’s a real chore afloat then 
it’s Bill the Bos’n they scream for. I taught ’em how to 
tow another battleboat. I give the skipper himself les- 
sons in pickin’ up a ten-ton wad of wreckage. And when 
little shin-digs of seamanship like a foul anchor or pro- 
peller are amusin’ the flat-feet (bluejackets) no one lends 
a hand to yours truly. No, Mister Migg, we’re not agoin’ 
to be interfered with this soon. Maybe towards the week- 
end, if we ain’t showed up, they’ll ask someone to ask 


59 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Washington if perhaps something oughta be done to begin 
to get us in. But sooner? — ^not this May, Mabel! ’Tain’t 
neglect. They just know what us warrants are good for.’’ 

That the Bosun was partly right at least was proved 
by the disappearance of the battleships to the westward 
in the direction of Cape Henry. There came an ugly 
yellow glow through the gathering mist and a threaten- 
ing bank of black clouds piled like distant mountains 
towards the south. Occasional squalls picked spray 
from the tug’s half buried bow and dashed it against 
the bridge shield behind which Migg braced. 

What’d I tell you? ” Byng shouted above the rush 
of wind. “ I knew <this blow would beat us in.” He 
seemed to enjoy the correctness of his prophecy in spite 
of the peril it brought. 

Then to the helmsman, “ Heave to, Jim; we got to 
put another line out, I can see that right now.” 

So the tug was put up into the wind and backed easily 
until a man could leap to the raft. It was a dangerous 
business even if the man did have a bowline about him 
in case he were washed overboard. Two seas out of 
three swept waist deep over the heavy framing, breaking 
and combing with crashing force against the raft’s 
timbers. 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

At first Byng said little. His wiry coxswain seemed 
capable of handling the situation and did well until the 
new line jammed at the very moment the man on the 
raft was trying to make it fast. 

You clumsy lubber/' screamed the coxswain in a 
sudden fury, “look what you’ve went an’ done!” 

In answer the man at the bitts threw down the bight 
he was working with. “ Go to — — ” But he never 
finished. The coxswain in one leap had him by his dun- 
garee collar. “ I told you,” he shrilled, “ that I’d — — ” 
He slammed the man to the deck. In the instant a free- 
for-all was on. 

Migg turned to Byng for a cue. “ Well,” remarked 
that burly person in loud but remarkably patient tones, 
“ I thought I’d have to do it. I knew I’d have to do it. 
Do it with my own hands. That’s what a warrant’s for.” 

This speech, of course, gave the brawlers a brief 
space in which to punish each other and thereby save 
Byng the trouble. They succeeded nobly, judging from 
the bloody noses and swelling eyes already in evidence. 

“ Come on, Migg,” was the command. “ You can 
help.” Migg followed close enough to handle a separate 
engagement near the lee rail. From the main mass of legs, 
arms, and bodies Byng drew one sailor after another 
much as he might have dragged dogs from a dog-fight. 


61 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


His extraordinary physical strength gave him an air of 
ease. Struggles meant nothing to his powerful hands. 

Now just remember this, you poor nuts,” he bawled 
at the panting group as they clutched for a brace on the 
slippery heeling deck, ‘‘you ain’t dealing with no brass 
hat nor gold-twilled shoulder marks.” He tore off his 
grimy uniform jacket and threw it under the counter. 
“ It’s Thomas Byng, Warrant Bos’n and man, what 
speaks. An’ let so much as a squeal or pinch come to my 
notice and I’ll double iron the bunch of yuh for the 
trip.” 

In the excitement of the melee no one noticed that the 
man overside had been swept dear of the raft. He was a 
fair swimmer, though, and was making his way back to 
the tug in good shape. Mountainous seas merely lifted 
him up and down without blocking his headway. The 
spare wire hawser had been made fast. Byng himself 
paid it out gradually. 

Another hand tended the line on the swimmer. As 
he was heaving in too rapidly Migg shouldered him aside 
and took the light rope in hand. Almost as he did it a 
wave larger than any yet swept under the boat and 
lifted her at least twenty feet in the air. As many 
fathoms of hawser were wrenched from the bitt’s coil. 
For an instant Migg saw the drawn face in the water, 
62 


A WARRANT OFFICER 


almost the whole towline, and the raft. Then with a 
tremendous lurch the tug swung sidewise and down. Her 
movement drew the heavy hawser taut with a snap. Its 
curving bight flung toward the swimmer and caught him 
with full force on his head. He sank out of sight. 

The line in Migg’s hand came slack. He’s out of 
the noose ! ” he cried. The hawser hit him.” 

Byng was up the ladder like a flash. For a moment 
Migg thought he was going to turn the Wampum around. 
But he returned almost immediately armed with two 
large coils of heaving line. 

Bend ’em together,” he ordered, stripping out of his 
trousers. “ Pay out handsomely now.” And he dived 
in. By strong easy strokes he dropped swiftly to the 
wounded man, who apparently was going down for the 
last time. The pair were hauled aboard together. 

Britches, mates,” were his first words. There was 
a scramble in the gathering darkness to find the garment. 
He drew them on his dripping, hairy skin, propped up 
meanwhile by a pair of huskies whose eyes he had blacked 
not ten minutes before. Thrill of the rescue seemed to 
have wiped away the last vestige of ill-feeling between 
skipper and men. 

Again Byng took the upper deck. “ Clear both lines, 
lads,” he called briskly. “ Get ’em ready for slipping. 


63 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


It’s going to be bad to-night and we may need a quick 
hand.” He ducked as a sheet of solid spray swept the 
shrouds and funnels. “ One man stand by on each. The 
rest of you in for a mug-up and dry clothes.” He turned 
to Migg. ‘‘ And us, Admiral, shall have a double seconds 
on the duff ! ” 

After giving the helmsman his course and directions 
to make no more than steerageway, the hungry pair sat 
down to a spread of coffee, sea-pie, and duff. A real 
seagoing meal it was. Roar of the gale outside and 
dizzy lurching of the stout hearted tug only added zest to 
the simple meal. 

Byng’s attitude toward Migg had entirely changed. ' 
“ I guess you think me a pretty tough customer,” he re- 
marked almost apologetically. 

Migg chewed lustily on the piecrust. “ Put it that 
way if you like. Mister Byng; but all this hits me in just 
the right spot. You’ve made me feel we actually are on 
our own. That you’re the real boss around here, and 
don’t have to fall back on your rank as a representative 
of the government.” Migg’s voice was vibrant with en- 
thusiasm. ‘‘ Why, it’s like the old days when men really 
went to seal” 

Byng made no attempt to conceal his pleasure. “ That’s 
the warrant’s game all through,” he continued. “ He’s 


64 


A WARRANT OFFICER 


right next to the men all the time. He’s got to win their 
respect. I picked my bunch on here because they trusted 
me. They ain’t what you’d call geniuses, nor any kind 
of hot-house plants. But I know what to expect of them ; 
and they know they can count on me.” 

“ You’ve been through it yourself is what helps,” 
Migg observed. 

“Yes. Take this meal. I thrive on such chow. I 
had eight years in on deck as seaman and petty officer — 
swung in a hammock and ate in the general mess. Half 
that time I had next as a C.P.O. (Chief Petty Officer). 
Come thirteen years next month I’ve had my warrant. 
Naturally it don’t come straight to put up with frills.” 

He rose and with the aid of a stanchion made his 
way to the small deck set into the bulkhead. He took 
down a faded picture. As he turned Migg saw an unex- 
pected softness smooth over his mouth and eyes. “ This 
is the home,” he said simply. “ You can see the missus 
and the kids to the side there under them six trees. 
Planted ’em myself, trees I mean, one after each 
cruise. I never had any real shore duty. It’s all been 
pretty much like this ; somehow I’m glad of it. But I’ve 
stuck a nice httle wad by besides what the house stands 
for. A few years more and I’m going there for good. 
Hundred and fifty a month I’ll get for thirty years’ ser- 


5 


65 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


vice. Good retired pay that is.’^ He roughly smoothed 
back the coarse and graying hair from his furrowed 
brow. ‘‘ But God knows it’s worth it, with what we get 
out here. And — — ” 

A grinding crash threw them both from their chairs. 
There were shouts and the noise of running feet overhead 
as the tug went down on her beam ends. 

‘‘There she blows,” shouted Byng, flinging on his 
slicker and jamming a sou’ wester over his ears. 
“ Rammed by our baby trailer I ” 

It was as he feared. The raft had ridden far to 
one side, the quartermaster testified rather vaguely and 
was up on the beam before he knew it. She struck the 
starboard quarter and carried away a dozen feet of the 
heavy bulwark. Men on watch at the hawser cut her 
adrift instantly. They had been terrified by the collision 
and sudden rush of water. 

“ Nothing to do now,” Byng concluded, “ but stand 
by her. Government property, you know, and we’re re- 
sponsible. Couple of thousand dollars’ worth of ma- 
terial, say, and the price of the coal we burn. There’s 
the risk to be thought of, too, forty lives and a first- 
class seagoing tug. But Tom Byng never yet threw a 
penny away he could save for the country he’s lived on 
all these cruises.” 


A WARRANT OFFICER 


Such is the faith of the men we’ve bred in the ranks. 

A wilder night Migg will live long years to see again. 
Though there was no means of reckoning their position 
tug and raft were without doubt being carried north- 
i; ward towards the dangerous shoals above Cape Charles. 
It Should they drift in too close disaster was almost cer- 
I tain. Roar of ithe furious storm would drown the pound 
i of the loudest surf. And in the inky blackness and 
: blinding rain squalls even the lightship was obscured, 
i though it must have been passed close aboard. 

We must keep to wind’ard of the raft,” Byng reas- 
I oned, ‘‘ and spread oil in the hope of keeping her from 
breaking up. So canvas bags of heavy machine oil were 
hung over the side. Through needle pricks the oil spread 
out across the raging water in layers infinitesimally thin. 
Yet such was the weight and molecular tension of the 
tiny oily particles that they damped the sea perceptibly. 
There were still monstrous rollers which loomed up sud- 
denly from the belching vortex of the cyclone, but none 
of them broke. 

The Wampum was fitted with a small searchlight and 
a wireless. But use of both was only occasional. One 
or two glimpses of the target were caught through the 
feeble swinging beam, showing that masts and shrouds 
had been swept clean of the main platform. One corner 
67 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


had been wrecked by the collision, and several of the' 
central struts were loose. : 

Some effort had been expended in reporting the party's! 
plight to the admiral at Lynnhaven Roads. But spas-; 
modic calls elicited no reply; and when the whole antennae | 
had been short circuited and the main guys carried away , 
forward Byng gave orders for the operator to shut upi 
shop and come on deck. | 

Towards early morning Migg threw himself on the 
narrow charthouse transom, lashed his body to the bulk- 
head, and slept like a log. The superhuman endurance 
of the Bosun seemed utterly to disregard the exhausting 
day and sleepless night. l 

When Migg awoke streaks of dawn outlined the little | 
port above his head. He would have rolled over for [ 
another nap had not a curious uneasiness assailed his | 
half -roused consciousness. What was it had awakened ! 
him? There was still the slam and crunch of the sea, 
the whistle of wind, and the thumping of loose ends j 
about the ship. She still carried on with an acrobatic 
agility that would have terrified the average sailorman. 
No, there was something more. 

Migg sat up. Then he heard it. Deep and rumbling, 
not so loud yet more penetrating than the storm, came a 
dreadful sound. At first he thought it must be breakers 
68 


A WARRANT OFFICER 


on the beach. But the steady flow of rumbling was far 
too heavy. A kind of fear gripped him. Not that he 
lacked courage, but bravery has to do with the known 
and tangible objects of life. This horror, whatever it 
was, touched in Migg the hidden chords of man’s in- 
herited panic of fright when in the presence of the 
unknown. 

For a moment he fumbled with his boots. Then he 
kicked them aside and sprang to the door. A scream 
had cut down through the muffled ventilator. 

“ I can’t hear you,” was the roar that' greeted him. 
Byng had a megaphone pointed toward a man in the 
lookout bucket aloft. 

“ A steamer ! ” like a scream was the cry repeated, as 
the man strained to make himself heard above the tumult 
of wind and sea. But she’s a mile high, an’ her smoke 
” one shadowy arm motioned half across the ob- 
scurity of heaven. 

Byng seemed to lose control of himself in his rage 
at the man’s stupidity. He couldn’t see from the bridge. 
There was too much water and wind. With an oath he 
leaped to the iron mast ladder and in a moment was 
with the lookout. Hardly had he leveled his glass over 
the edge of the canvas barrel than he leaned down and 
bellowed : 


69 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Hard over — ^it’s a waterspout 1 ’’ 

Then Migg saw it. Out of the very belly of the gale 
stalked a towering column of black water. , Like some 
mad wraith of the sea it rushed onward, waving aloft a 
simmering smoky crest which disappeared in the smudge 
of cloud above. The body of the thing was some twenty 
feet in diameter and formed of water drawn up by the 
cyclonic disturbance passing northwards along the coast. 
Though the water whirled with tremendous velocity 
actual advance of the column was comparatively slow. 

Put her on west,” gasiped Byng, well-blown by his 
quick descent. We’ll clear, I think, but that durned 
target’s done for.” 

He was right. Not five hundred yards astern of the 
tug the spout and raft collided. There was a foaming 
whirlpool of spray, a few flying bits of wreckage, and 
the wooden structure was seen no more. Migg tried ,to 
imagine the Wampum's fate had she met the demon 
earlier. 

“ That lets us out, at any rate,” observed Byng. ‘‘ Put 
her round on south, quartermaster, and call me when we 
sight the Henry Light.” And, turning to Migg, “ Them 
critters,” he added with almost comical seriousness, “ is 
all right in the ‘ Notices to Mariners.’ But their meteor- 
ological character ain’t got the virtue for the likes of a 


70 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

God-fearing man as me. You seen what it done to the 
raft.’’ 

A deluge of rain swept the wake of the storm’s centre. 
This killed the sea, and within two hours there was only 
a heavy swell to remind the battered tug and crew of the 
nightmare through which they had passed. 

The battleships were sighted snugly at anchor under 
protection of the land. No sign of recognition was given 
I the Wampum until she was abreast the anchorage. Then 
I a curt signal came from the flagship. Report at once 
I to station ship at Old Point.” 

‘‘ Thank you, sir” snorted Byng, and laid his course 
I up the channel. ‘‘Of course, our propeller ain’t off, 
though it’s bent four ways at once. And we still have 
some of our side left. Maybe we ought to tell him 
Mister Migg had a couple of hours’ sleep in ‘the night, 
and that there’s the emergency rations to fall back on 
even though our flour barrel is empty.” 

Migg grinned at the sarcastic soliloquy. “ That’s 
what you get for having a reputation.” 

“ Reputation, bosh ! It’s being a warrant what makes 
’em think I’m some kind of tame giant.” 

It was dark before the Wampum rounded up past 
Thimble Shoal and exchanged numbers with the big re- 
pair vessel. There was signs of activity thereabouts and 
71 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

a searchlight illuminated a large target similar to the 
one lost. 

Before the anchor was dropped a launch ranged 
alongside. Wampum there/' hailed a white figure, is 
Boatswain Byng on deck ? " 

‘‘ Right here," Byng shot back a little defiantly. 

“ This is Flag Lieutenant of the Train (supply fleet). , 
I have orders here for you to pick up the raft we have 
over there and be on the range by daylight to-morrow. 
You’ll have to hurry if you’re going to make it.’’ 

Migg expected an outburst from Byng on hearing 
these amazing orders. Wasn’t there any consideration 
in the service? 

“ Don’t worry, sir,’’ was the ready answer, ‘‘ I’ll do 
it if you give me the lines now. And say, I could use 
a dozen fresh hands on deck and a side of beef in the 
galley, if you have ’em to spare.’’ 

Sure. We’ll send them aboard at once.’’ 

Migg couldn’t believe his ears had served him aright. 
''Do you mean you’re out again to-night? Do they ’ 
know what we had yesterday — this morning, that we 
lost the raft and almost the tug? ’’ ' 

Byng guffawed till bis shoulders shook. Kid,’’ he jj 
chuckled, “ I’m a Warrant Bosun of the United States ( 
Kavy. Except for a few an’ puny details I’m on myf 


A WARRANT OFFICER 

own hook. So long as I deliver the goods there’s work 
and pay aplenty. And what more can a sailorman 
want? ” His broad face glowed in the soft light of the 
rising moon. 

Down channel towards the sea spread a widening 
pathway silvery white. Gray wisps of clouds in the 
north and east marked the last vestiges of the storm. 

For a long minute the Bosun gazed immovable at the 
peace and beauty of the night. A new look wiped all 
harshness from his features. “ Blowed if it ain’t like the 
Sound up home,” he muttered absently. 

Uh-huh,” Migg answered with a yawn. 

His years were still ahead. 


Ill 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 

There is a rather gruesome tale about a man who 
swallowed a needle. His wife gave him violent emetics 
and rushed for the doctor. By the time a medico arrived 
the man was in worse condition from his wife’s pota- 
tions than he could have been if he had devoured a 
whole needle case. Consultation of specialists brought 
forth facts to prove that the needle had been ejected. 

The highbrows were wrong. Convulsions- had buried 
the bit of steel so deep in the victim’s stomach that he 
apparently recovered and he lived to have heartburn from 
morsels far more digestible than a nickel-plated dart. 

In the writhing darkness of the human belly this fate- 
ful needle worked outward towards the light. By the 
fraction of an inch it missed the heart. It slid and 
crept by the heaving unheeding ribs. Across the armpit 
hollow it glided, unsmeared by thq blood which lisped 
about it. At the turn it caught, 'and .the man lay up for 
a day with what he called rheumatism in his shoulder. 

Months after the first accident a sharp pain shot 
through the man’s forearm. It increased and shifted to 
74 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


his hand, X-ray was resorted to, and with success. There 
in the grip of his fist, not a fatal spot, but a spot more 
vital to the man’s life and living than nearly any other, 
lay the needle. It was untarnished; indeed it was pol- 
ished and very sharp. 

It is the same with the spirit of the man who enters 
the navy. Like the needle, he is swallowed up by a vast 
and intricate body. Its violent contrasts to his former 
peaceful life seem quick convulsions of abhorrence. But 
by their very violence he is drawn deeper into the belly 
of the creature. Stunned and blinded he fights his way 
through devious years of maritime apprenticeship. Along 
all the intricacies of academic life he creeps, feeling only 
here and there a substantial understanding of the goal. 
By the hard knocks of military routine he gropes to 
stronger conception of his surroundings. Amid the cold 
unfeeling unselfishness of system he fights ever on. Until 
one day in the most vital spot perhaps of his country’s 
defense, polished by strife and doubly keen, he finds the 
light; there on the flying bridge and in the sea boots of a 
skipper of a fighting ship ! 

M'igg was a good example. Where he got that name 
God knows ! His shipmates don’t. Even as a lad he was 
needle sharp. How do they get there. Dad,” was his 
early question. He meant the navy, and his query was 

75 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


one that comes to ten boys out of nine, the tenth boy 
is a girl. 

Well, er which is the usual parent’s answer, 

you can enlist, or you might be able to get an appoint- 
ment to the Naval Academy at Annapolis.” 

‘‘ How,” of course, came next. But it took a good 
many hows and whens and wheres from a good many 
people before the boy found that Annapolis is the short 
cut to being an officer and enlistment the long one. That 
enlistment at an early age gives the boy even a better 
opportunity if then he can enter the academy — for a 
few hard knocks on deck are as good as a year in school. 

But Migg was keen, he wanted the short cut. So 
when he learned that an appointment was necessary he 
went to the source at once. The President and the Sec- 
retary of the Navy would select a certain number of 
boys each year. They, however, looked too big. The 
senator for his part of the country could send several 
boys. He had them already picked out. The congress- 
man for the district had his quota of appointments with 
one yet to be filled. By competitive examination Migg 
proved he was the ripe apple. 

So it came about that on a certain hot June day Migg 
was swallowed up into the cavern of this monster of the 
sea we call our navy. 


76 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


True to convention it tried to spew him up. He 
wasn’t expecting it, either, that day in midshipman’s 
quarters, as he sat dully in a bare wooden chair in a 
room just as bare, and pored over a small volume labelled 
Navy Deck and Boat Book,” which had been served out 
to him and his fellow unfortunates. The study door 
flung open. A weather browned youth strode in. 

'' Stand up, you puppy ! ” 

Migg’s father had been accustomed to roar at him 
like this when a thrashing was due. And early had he 
learned that the best defense was stolid indifference com- 
bined with unemotional aquiescence. He was the kind 
that don’t cry. He stood up slowly. 

You think they’ve knocked off hazing,” was the 
next roared remark. You’ve got another think 
coming.” 

Migg looked his visitor over slowly and without feel- 
ing. He leaned not ungracefully on the bare deal table. 
If he realized that the bully was an upperclassman, or 
that he was slightly larger and heavier than himself, he 
did not show it. 

“ Take your eyes off me, you pin-headed plebe, and 
thin out ! ” This time the tone was threatening. 

Then Migg moved. He didn’t swing, or flash his 
fist, or make any headlong attack on his adversary. He 


77 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


simply knocked him flat, cleanly and efflciently flat. He 
rolled his body out into the corridor and returned to 
his book. 

The incident epitomizes Migg’s progress through the 
four stiff years he spent at the academy. He was the 
other type of American boy, the stolid rather than the 
nervous. But he was dogged, and he dug. When he 
didn’t understand he waited. When men roared at him 
he waited. When he failed or made mistakes he waited. 
But in the end he struck. And he had a blow like the 
kick of a yearling steer, morally as well as physically. 

Mr. Migg,” said the instructor to him one after- 
noon after a four hour examination in mechanics, ‘‘ your 
mark for the term has been unsatisfactory. You have 
proved that you do not grasp the subject. But I find on 
looking over your paper that not only are your answers 
correct, but that you have in several places quoted the 
book to some length. Where is your gouge, you sneak ? ” 

As per routine, there was no answer. 

'' Give it to me or I’ll take you to the commandant, 
he’ll know soon enough you’ve cheated.” 

Migg moved. It was a very small move, just his 
mouth. You lie,” he said. 

The instructor’s face tautened. But he didn’t reply 
78 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


to the insult. He had been to sea some fifteen years and 
had learned the value of self oontroL 

Together they went to the commandant. Migg had 
cheated, so the older man said, and had used violent 
language to his superior officer. They discussed the 
enormity of the offence, and they invited recrimination 
from the boy. He only asked for paper and pencil. 
And he sat down and wrote from memory, word for 
word, the passages he had been accused of stealing on 
the sly, passages which in his grim determination not to 
fail he had memorized for the occasion. He had called his 
superior officer in the navy a liar. He had got away 
with it. And to this day not three people living know 
that the superior officer received a reprimand in his pres- 
ence. Migg wasn’t the kind that tells. 

He waded through navigation. It was a fight, the 
war of a desperate memory against a brain that wouldn’t 
see. But in the end it did see. It saw and understood not 
only mathematics and navigation, but steam and elec- 
tricity, international and military law ; physics and chem- 
istry, strategy and tactics, and all the other burdensome 
mental tasks the navy imposes on her sons in their youth. 

Guns came easy. Trajectories looked impossible, but 
somehow they were part of projectiles, and projectiles 
were parts of guns — or so he persuaded himself. At 


79 


CLEAK THE DECKS! 


least the guns wouldn’t be any good without them. So 
Migg stood at the top of sections which marched from 
quarters to classes in ordnance and torpedoes. He re- 
ceived a diploma with unconcealed joy, but his face fell 
when he found the parchment’s decorations included no 
picture of a torpedo. 

He was ordered to a battleship. He didn’t choose the 
fleet. It looked too complicated. Do you suppose that 
tailor was dunning me? ” he asked his roommate aboard 
the man-of-war. Look at all this truck he made me 
buy.” 

‘‘ Of course not, you bonehead,” was the unsympa- 
thetic answer. ‘‘ We’ll use ’em all to-day. For instance, 
we’ve got to report in frock coats and swords, cocked 
hats on top. After that it’s special full dress for the 
admiral’s inspection. We ought to be through in time 
to put on service for lunch. If we go over to the beach 
later we shall need a boatcloak or overcoat. They say 
we dress for dinner here, mess jackets, I suppose. And, 
who knows, we may get a bid to a hop to-night.” 

‘‘ But don’t we ever get down to business? ” 

‘‘ Sure, but this is Saturday, you know. Monday will 
give you a chance for your dungarees in the turret. If 
you have a night watch there’s your khaki. Bad weather 


80 



DUMMY LOADING DRILL: ONE HAD TO KNOW THE STUFF BEFORE ONE 
COULD HANDLE MEN OR GUNS OR SHIPS 



EARLY NEXT MORNING HE FOUND THAT HE WAS ASSIGNED TO A I4-INCH 
GUN DIVISION AS THE JUNIOR OFFICER 




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A JUNIOR OFFICER 


means sou’wester and slicker. And don’t forget your 
whites when we go to south.” 

Migg shook his head. It wasn’t what he had expected'. 
Books had been a sort of necessary evil. One had to 
know the stuff before one could handle guns or men or 
ships. But from the present outlook he was going to 
spend more time changing his clothes than shooting guns 
or training men to shoot them. 

He was wrong again. Early next morning he found 
that he was assigned to a 14-inch gun division as the 
junior officer. He was an ensign, now, but the lieu- 
tenant in charge of the cornmand treated him with all 
severity and reserve possible without offending the boy’s 
position as an officer. 

There were eighty men in Migg’s division. He first 
learned them all by name. He noted the duties of each. 
He found he must keep lists of their clothing and bed- 
ding and make periodic inspections of both. He must 
give daily lectures in professional subjects to his own 
group. Monthly he examined them. Their records of 
ability, conduct, health, and general aptitude for the ser- 
vice became so pigeon-holed in his mind that when the 
gunnery officer asked for a certain kind of man for a 
certain kind of job Migg could name offhand exactly the 
sailor who would fill the bill. 

6 61 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


This work was mostly detail and — in Migg’s words — 
‘^too much like that of a prep-school prof.’^ But he 
wasn't much more fond of drills in the turret. There 
the division officer took charge and sat in the turret 
booth shouting orders to guns and handling rooms. Below 
him and scattered through the great bowels of the ‘‘ gun- 
coop" were nearly a hundred men braced and waiting 
for the word to feed the huge steel breeches with pow- 
der and shell. 

Migg must stay below. He was in charge of the 
magazines and lower handling rooms. None of the sharp 
action of load and fire was his reward for long patient 
waits between runs on the target range. Blindly must 
he and his two score huskies rustle the ninety pound bags 
and wrestle the fourteen hundred pound shells. When 
the cars got their charge he only signaled and waited 
for them to be snatched away by invisible hands to the 
turret overhead. Alone in the reeking magazines where 
ether fumes sickened them all he struggled shoulder to 
shoulder with his men over heavy tanks and lids that 
defied wrenches to the bitter end. Some of the gang 
joked and laughed. But time dragged into hours and 
humor gave way to sleepy stupidity. This exercise was 
called battle-stations. Migg grew to hate it by the love 
he held for the active deck so far above him. After eight 


82 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


hours of it he was like a caged tiger — the strongest bar 
of the cage was his sense of duty. 

Four hours out of twelve Migg stood junior-officer- 
of-the-watch on deck. The ofhcer-of-the-deck ran things. 
Underway the J.O. was merely a useful assistant. He 
took distances on the ship ahead if cruising in fo'imation. 
He took bearings for the navigator if on soundings or 
near land. He acted as signal officer and ran messages up 
and down the bridge. And if some lubber fell overboard 
he had the sweet job of manning a cockle shell of a life 
boat and picking the drowned rat up. But he was in the 
air. And there was action, albeit he was not its root. 

Then there were the dirty jobs, though Migg didn’t 
call them so. Target umpire was one. Up and out at 
3.30 A.M. and away with the launch and repair party to a 
seagoing tug ten miles across the Roads. After every 
run there were holes to mark and record. Targets must 
be shifted. All in seas that came for the occasion to lick 
chilled men from the slippery rafts. It was nasty work 
and there wasn’t always a ration around. But it was 
action. And Migg was nearly the root of it. 

'' Mr. Migg,” said the chief officer one day, you’re 
getting too much salt in your whiskers. Come below and 
slime up a bit.” 


83 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


Migg’s heart sank. He had hoped that he might 
slip out of the '' Black Gang '' detail. ‘‘ All right, sir,’’ 
he returned, but without marked enthusiasm, it’s just 
as the commander says.” Which was true, for next day 
all the junior officers found themselves shifted for their 
periodic change in instructive duty and Migg landed on 
boilers. 

He stood a regular watch as on deck. His duty was 
to superintend the care of fires and water in the boilers, 
to check the pumps and personnel, to gauge the coal, and 
to absorb information. He did it all in the same spirit in 
which he had mastered mathematics. It went against the 
grain, but it was part of his dark way out. And deep 
in his heart he felt more sure than ever that he was 
going to reach the light, to get out where a man could 
fight in the open. He couldn’t put it into words ; it was 
just a feeling. 

Six long months he spent in the hell which atmos- 
phere of steam and heated oil can be to the man who 
loves outdoors. He had a spell at throttle watch. Once 
the main high-pressure crank carried away. He leaped 
panther-like upon the steam control and choked off power. 
In a matter of seconds he saved the port engine from 
wrenching its bedplates loose, if not wrecking the whole 
plant. The steam lead overhead carried 200 pounds 

84 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


pressure. Had that gone the watch would have been 
wiped out to a man. 

“ You deserve something better than this,” said the 
executive officer afterwards. ‘‘ Name it.” Migg didn’t 
hesitate. A top-side job,” was his one desire. 

All right, then,” agreed the commander, try the 
bridge f or a while. You can report now to the navigator 
as his assistant.” 

The following months were full of sextants and log 
books, with endless dashing in and out, snatching star- 
sights before sunrise, and shooting the sun from one 
day’s end to the other. 

In conjtmction with the job he had a place in the fire- 
control division. He learned to spot ; that is, to sit in the 
mast of a night and judge the fall of shots near the 
target. This fascinated him. It was mathematical to be 
sure, and every detail of the approach was a matter of 
cold trigonometrical beauty. But there was a sting of 
reality in the noise of discharge, in the vicious geyser of 
ricochet, and the jagged tear one could make out in the 
target. Migg improved. He got better than the old 
hands at this game. But they never knew why. He 
himself was scarcely conscious of the cold tenacity within 
him that fairly ached for expression. And expression for 

85 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


it was to destroy. Not just to maim or to murder, but 
military victory, which is a man^s victory. 

But it wasn’t all action. He had to accept the cap- 
tain’s desire to make Migg his aid. This meant tea 
fights which he loathed. He had a month in the dynamo 
room, hotter, if anything, than boilers. He took a com- 
pany in the landing force ashore when battalion parades 
were dusty repetition of his midshipman days. He put 
ten squads through the long monotony of rifle range and 
pistol butts. In the target pit with steel-jackets singing 
overhead there was the mild consolation that this was 
the way the real thing would sound. Finally on the 
strength of his record and after a course on the training 
ship he became “ Torps,” the ship’s torpedo officer. 

He had been in a week and was very happy when on a 
February morning he came from the sweating compressor 
to throw his greasy togs on the bunk and catch a bit of 
lunch. Suddenly he heard a howl from the messroom. 
It was really a chorus of howls. He rushed out. ‘‘ At 
last, thank God,” he heard someone shout. 

‘‘ At last what ? ” he said, grabbing the nearest man. 

War, you old sealouse — war ! ” 

Migg took a deep breath. He used it to remark some- 
thing to the effect that now there would be hell popping. 
But the words were far too weak to express the glorious 


86 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


joy inside him. He wanted to jump and to yell and to 
start an engagement then and there. Now the chances 
would come. Someone was going to get the action he 
craved. 

He got it, too. “ They’re hot after torpedo-craft 
men,” was the flying rumor. Migg didn’t wait for more. 
His request for the duty went the same day by wire to 
Washington. He got slammed hard for his non-reg con- 
duct. He also got what he was after. 

One week after he joined the destroyer she sailed 
under sealed orders. Three weeks after he had joined 
her he saw a gun fired, not to tear thin innocent canvas, 
but to sear and mutilate blood-fed human flesh. 

But that is going ahead too fast. He was still a 
junior officer, still the under-dog. But now the puddle 
was small enough to make him feel a man once more. 

There were four officers and eighty men aboard the 
204 ” as she was unromantically named. Her skipper 
Barlow had never been out of the boats ” and wasn’t 
at home in anything under 20° of roll. His two gold 
stripes were cuprous green, and the gray worn patches on 
his uniform might have been stains of blue water brine. 

The Exec, and Chief were only a few classes senior 
to Migg, but they held him down to a watch-and-watch 
schedule at sea which soon hardened his face as well as 


87 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


his muscles. The Exec, found that Migg was a navi- 
gator; and the Chief wormed out of him a knowledge of 
engines, hollers, radio, dynamos, and other such rot (as 
the Chief craftily termed them), until the four young 
pirates were in closer cahoots than a gang of thieves. 
Which is what counts when a boat goes hunting big game 
in strange waters, especially when that game is a steel- 
ribbed fish more venomous than any reptile ^e world has 
ever known. 

The “ 204 ’’did her trick with the rest of the pack. She 
put in bleak days over barren hunting grounds. An occa- 
sional convoy brought excitement not so much in what 
happened as in what might happen. No man could know 
the situation and not live vivid moments when mind pic- 
tures of sinking troop ships turned his blood cold, and 
made his hunched shoulders shudder under drenched 
oil-skins. 

The skipper was wont to speak his thoughts at such 
times. It wouldn’t be the poor devils in the water that 
would get my goat,” he said to Migg, one black night on 
the swinging bridge end, '' I’ve seen it before, and it’s 
pretty bad. But to have their screams in my ears, their 
upturned faces going blank as the freezing water eats 
their hearts — in my eyes,” he paused and his neck ten- 
dons drew tight in two ridges under his jaw, and then 
88 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


to have the murdering hound dip before I got him. Gad ! 
It would haunt the rest of my days.” He spat in his pipe 
to drown its sparks before knocking them overboard. 
‘‘Well, we may see something to-morrow; we join the 
bunch in the morning.” Migg had no answer. He was 
waiting. 

Dawn didn’t break. It crept in like a shrinking 
thing. Low-hanging clouds stifled the light. The 204 
raced on. At seven she should connect with the forces. 
They might be in sight already behind a fogbank ahead. 
Migg hung to the high bridge-rail. His eyes looked tired, 
but they were still thin-lidded and bright. 

Abruptly and without warning a column of water grew 
out of the sea some hundreds of yards ahead and on the 
bow. This curious phenomenon was followed by an en- 
lightening hoom to starboard. Before he could change 
course a second geyser spouted, this time much closer. 

The 204 spun about and ran like a hound for the 
flash which had shown for an instant through the murk. 
The skipper reached on the bridge as she lengthened out. 
“ It’s a sub, all right,” he said shortly. “ She’s been 
lying there waiting for the cows. She’s low enough to 
see us under the fog. We got to get her.” 

When the Exec, arrived he shoved Migg off the bridge. 
“ Pick her up and fire at the next flame she makes,” he 


89 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

ordered. And tell the chief to give us every ounce he’s 
got.” 

Migg ran forward, then aft. He checked his gun 
and 'torpedo crews and saw the bombs ready. He wasted 
five seconds to shout a gloating sentence into the grind- 
ing inferno below an engineroom hatch. As he did so a 
deafening roar jarred the deck under his feet. We’re 
off!'” he shouted and ran forward to the gun which he 
thought had fired. It wasn’t there. 

The forecastle had been swept clean of gun, davits 
and capstan. Migg whirled to the bridge. It was splinter 
pocked and the wind screen hung shredded. He sprang 
up, caught a twisted rail and swung himself onto the 
steering platform. The skipper lay on his face. What 
was left of the Exec, didn’t seem to have any face. Migg 
turned to the wheel. The quartermaster held it, glaring 
fixedly through the lifting mist. 

Not a thousand yards ahead in plain sight lay the 
U-boat. Her gun’s crew were scurrying down her open 
conning tower. The lid swung shut. She began to sink, 
slowly like a punctured bucket. Another minute and it 
would be too late. 

Migg moved. And as usual it was a small move, 
though his nails dug into the frayed manrope to which 

90 


A JUNIOR OFFICER 


he clung. He leaned over and shouted forward : Stand 
by both anchors ! ’’ 

Two of the after gang who had come up obeyed him 
dumbly. The sub was only two hundred yards ahead and 
her periscope projected less than a meter above the oily 
surface of the water. The 204 quivered in intensity of 
effort. 

The upright ifube disappeared like a drowning man’s 
hand. Not fifty yards away the little circles spread. 

“ Let go both anchors! ” roared Migg. Together the 
forged steel hooks splashed and their chains ran out in 
rasping shrieks. They snubbed as the hooks caught some- 
thing far below. 204 nosed down, swung and reared 
stern up as if trying to buck. One chain snapped. Be- 
fore she recovered the other one slacked a bit, then hung 
loose. 

Migg paid no heed when a muffled roar announced 
that a bomb had finished the job. His moment for action 
had come, and true to his dream he had banked it. 

The needle had emerged, polished by strife and doubly 
keen — there on the flying bridge cmd in the seaboots of a 
skipper\ of a jighting ship! 


IV 


A DIVISION OFFICER 

How Ensign Migg got his destroyer back to port 
after the tragedy is a matter for reflection. But he is 
one that will have to do the reflecting and chronicle his 
details in the memoirs every famous (and infamous sea- 
fighter) writes toward the end of his career. A kind of 
expiation for their sins it seems to be. 

His official report read: “At 6.12 a.m. sighted sub- 
marine broad on starboard bow. She opened fire. Her 
third shot carried away our forecastle gun and crew, 
killing executive officer and wounding captain. She then 
tried to submerge. Headed for her full speed and let go 
both anchors in time for flukes to hook and roll her over. 
Dropped depth bomb and recovered two bodies as proof 
of her utter destruction.’’ 

The Board of Investigation wanted more. “ How 
did it happen that the enemy saw you first? ” was their 
query. Surprise attacks had become so frequent that 
American eyes were rapidly losing caste. 

“ Morning fog,” was the dry reply, “ always lies low. 
Subs can get in under it and see another vessel first every 
time.” 


92 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


So Migg was exonerated. But still the board wasn’t 
satisfied. They never are. Other witnesses were ex- 
I amined; the deck hands and the bridge quartermaster. 

I Gradually the truth dribbled out. Migg, though but an 
! ensign, and with absolutely no experience in command, 
had leapt into the breach and not only saved his boat 
: but had destroyed the enemy as well. 

' So he was a hero. But in the navy the worst possible 
i thing in the world is to be a hero. That is, if you are 
young and want action. A curious paradox but true. 
Take Migg’s case. Now,” said he to himself, “ they 
say I’ve made good. Next thing is my own boat. Guess 
I’ll ask them to let me have Sam Cantling for exec. 

Chief’s billet Splasho! in the very middle of his 

j plans came orders : 

I ‘‘ Return to New York and report to Navy Yard 
j| for duty connection fitting out of destroyer No. 625 and 
I on board, etc.” 

'1 It was meant to be a reward. He was now considered 
' a seasoned officer. He had proved his value, and, by the 
I Board’s recommendation, was to be shot back across the 
I Big Drink for a better job. 

But orders are a snare and a delusion. Migg’s fame 
had preceded him. Captain J. P. Glovely, U. S. N., had 
• just taken command of the magnificent new battle cruiser, 


93 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


U. S. S. Alaska. To him Migg, and men like Migg, 
meant just so much material toward turning the Alaska 
into a pennant winner. And old Glovely was the kind 
that brings home the bacon. 

Naval intrigue is difficult in inverse proportion to 
one’s rank. It took the 'burly skipper just ten minutes 
and one dollar’s worth of long distance calls to have 
Migg’s orders changed to the Alaska. So easily are the 
pawns moved and captured in this greatest game in the 
world. 

‘‘ Watch and Division Officer,” was the sum and sub- 
stance of the next letter our hero received from the 
‘‘ Secnav.” Also there came his commission as junior 
lieutenant, due not to length of service or any particular 
merit, but to the marvellous inflation our navy had at 
the beginning of the war. 

The immediate result of these documents was that 
Migg visited the yard paymaster and drew down a nice 
fat check for something over $150 as monthly pay of 
his new; rank. His next move was even less military. He 
took his best girl out to dinner. She being of a practical 
nature asked him what he did to deserve such wealth at 
his age and attainments. The feminine mind has an 
embarrassing way of abandoning vistas of glory (such as 
94 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


Migg’s recent prodigies) and concentrating upon the nude 
present. So too, alas, is officialdom. 

He began a little sourly, but soon warmed up : WeVe 
twelve hundred men aboard. Four hundred are engi- 
neers. Two hundred are miscellaneous yeomen, you 
know, quartermasters, carpenters, hospital stewards, elec- 
tricians, radio operators, cooks, and the like. The rest 
man guns. Each branch has its officers : paymasters, doc- 
tors, engineers, and deck or watch officers. 

Of the last each has a division of about a hundred 
men, and commands a turret or broadside. On the Alaska 
I’m going to have a turret with three guns in it, big 
bullies they are. You could get inside them. Maybe a 
little slime and ” 

Never mind the slime,” from the Best Girl. Go 
on with the ship.” 

‘‘ Well, there are four turrets. Then there’s a broad- 
side of twelve five-inch, port and starboard. These take 
about two hundred men altogether. Their use is chiefly 
‘ against submarines and destroyers. They haven’t the 
I range for battle and couldn’t penetrate modem side armor 
if they did. 

'' Besides having my men and guns to look out for I 
stand a watch on deck in port and on the bridge at sea.” 

Here the Best Girl’s eyes suddenly brightened. Migg 


95 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


thrilled to think that she so readily grasped his explana- 
tions. Almost like a man, he thought. ‘‘Tell me,” she 
asked, “ isn’t there a nice boy named Cherrill on the Alaska 
with you? ” 

In nautical language that question 'pooped the even- 
ing.” There was a Cherrill, Migg knew. Full two striper, 
too ; that is, a senior lieutenant. And he had been assigned 
the forward turret. Migg had the after one. Which* 
was the beginning of war, war more real even than the 
day when Migg had seen his own exec, bleeding like a 
stuck pig from the Hun’s stubbed three-inch. This was 
war of men for a woman. 

But cut the slush. This isn’t a love story, except 
that two men loved the sea and the fleet and their steel- 
choked turrets. Loved them with a passion. Yet — ^well, 
sooner or later the sweeter meat comes to strong appe- 
tites of youth. 

At any rate,. Migg moved aboard next morning. He 
was a wardroom oflicer now, had a single room, and ate 
in the big mess with ranks up to the commander who sat 
at the head of the long table. His Filipino mess boy 
helped him impack and laid out a change of clothing for 
the day. 

Quarters came at nine. Each division lined up in 
its part of the ship and was mustered by the boatswain’s 


96 



TARGETS MUST BE SHIFTED, AND ALL IN SEAS THAT CAME TO LICK 
CHILLED MEN FROM THE SLIPPERY RAFTS 



QUARTERS CAME AT NINE. EACH DIVISION LINED UP IN ITS PART OF 
THE SHIP AND WAS MUSTERED BY THE BOATSWAIN’S MATE IN CHARGE 









j A DIVISION OFFICER 

; mate in charge. He reported absentees to the junior 
I officer, or “ Snottie,” who ordered open ranks and lined 
i the men up for inspection. Migg had learned the salient 
t points of a sailorman’s appearance. He knew just what 
I degree of shininess to expect on shoes and exactly the 
proper cut and angle for every garment. 

“ Carry those hands back,” he commanded sharply as 
I he sized up his new shipmates. ‘‘ Look like a lot of hams 
on a line. Cut the grin there,” to a recruit who had not 
' yet acquired the military prize of facial stolidity. Not 
a ladies’ boarding school, y’know, but a battleship.” 

In a jiffy he had spotted two non-reg jumpers and at 
j least a half dozen lopsided watch marks worn on the arms 
' of petty officers. He made the division imcover and com- 
; pared their hirsute adornments to sick bear-cats, mongrel 
; curs, and other shaggy animals, ending with a gentle re- 
j mark to the effect that there wasn’t going to be any joy in 
his end of the ‘‘ Bucket” tmtil all hands got clipped and 
curried. 

To hear Migg’s harsh contemptuous remarks one 
would have thought him a tyrant and a bully. But noth- 
ing of this reflected in the broad strong faces before him 
If any emotion was to be found m them it was joy. The 
truth was that the bunch knew they had drawn a card. 
Their new. division officer was a man, a man’s man, fair 


7 


97 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


and square and with a sense of humor; one who could 
drive and be driven ; one who could curse and grin, could 
complain and bear, give hell (to his men and yet take 
punishment of damnation shoulder to shoulder with them. 
They heard Migg through, and when finally he gave 
“ fall out they were behind him to the end of the file. 

Migg called his J.O. down to his room. ‘‘ Mister 
Mopp,’’ he said, “ I want you to live up to your name in 
swabbing the jobs I’m going to turn over to you. First 
there’s the station bill. Turn to and make me a full dia- 
gram of what each man does in each part of the routine 
and work. I’m going to let you run the division while 
I look on. That’s what my boss did a year ago and 
there’s no quicker way of learning the game. I’ll run the 
drills and inspections. But you’ve got to do the dirty 
work, keeping all the records, clothing and bedding lists, 
and other such seafaring duties. So go to it and I’ll re- 
lieve the deck.” 

Before the jtmior’s brisk '‘ aye, aye, sir,” had died 
away Migg was up the ladder. He approached the navi- 
gator, stopped at attention and saluted him with the for- 
mula: " I’m ready to relieve you, sir.” 

‘‘ Very well, Mr. Migg. You know I take the deck 
every morning for quarters and would be glad to stay 
longer in case you wish to have drill.” 


98 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


No sir, I’d rather take it over. I want to get next 
to things as soon as possible. What’s the dope? ” 

^ Tucking the long glass under his arm the navigator 
: extracted a list from his pocket and began to recite in a 
I monotone as follows: 

! We’re moored here to dock thirteen with double 
;i springs and breasts. The camels (floats between ship and 
l! pier) aft are chafing a little. You’ll have to see to them. 

Ij Captain and executive are aboard. Regular port routine 
! is being carried out, battery drill followed by general 
I quarters and fire stations. No special work going on ex- 
cept cleaning and painting on deck. Sixth division is 
i working division to-day.” 

How’s that? ” Migg interposed, 
i Why it’s the system we’ve got here of having deck 
i divisions take turns at supplying working parties for all 
odd jobs, furnishing messengers and side-boys, and other 
special details. There comes a carload of paymaster’s 
stores now. A working party of twenty men can handle 
: them. You have to learn by experience about how many 
I people it takes to get away with such breaks in the day’s 
I tasks. A few minutes ago I had to receive an engine 
i casting from one of the yard tugs. It looked small 
i enough so I ladled out a squad of six. Bless me, I had 
to make an emergency call of five hands from each divi- 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

sion all over the ship before I could get that elephant 
aboard ! ” 

“ How about honors ? ’’ Migg rerpembered past em- 
barrassments when some visitor of high rank had swung 
unexpectedly under his counter. 

Oh yes, the admiral is due at eleven. Informal call 
on the skipper; don’t give him any guard and band. 
Sideboys will be needed, six you know. Be ready to pipe 
down aired bedding at eleven-thirty so as to have the 
decks clear by the time mess is spread. There are twenty 
yard workmen aboard. See that they have identification 
checks before leaving. Might blow us up if one of them 
was a spy. And whatever you do keep the quarterdeck 
clear. Old Man will crawl your frame if he sees so 
much as a sailor cross it.” 

The navigator ceased his recital and took a last look 
through all his pockets. After passing over a few scraps 
of paper, memos of unfinished work and the like, he 
announced : '' Guess that’s all, Mr. Migg,” to which Migg 
made the customary reply : ‘‘ Very well, I relieve you, sir,” 
and saluted again. He was now, according to regulations, 
the officer of the deck — officer of the watch in charge of 
the ship.” 

Had the ship been in pert at anchor he would have 
received additional information in regard to her exact 
100 


• 'i-iWiwr)Mai 




Copyright by Burnell Poole 

THE ALASKA WAS IN COLUMN, THIRD BEHIND THE FLAGSHIP. 
EXACTLY 500 YARDS ASTERN WAS ANOTHER MAN-OF-WAR, ALL TEARING 
ALONG AT SOMETHING LIKE EIGHTEEN KNOTS 



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A DIVISION OFFICER 


position, the surrounding shipping, boats down and in use 
and schedules of their trips, state of tide, barometer, 
weather, and other items which sometimes may mean the 
safety of the ship. A few years ago in the harbor of 
Provincetown, Cape Cod, a nor’easter blew up with such 
suddenness that the fleet had to put to sea. One 0 . 0 . D. 
was a little behind on his meteorological data and nearly 
had an epileptic fit getting his hook up in time. 

At sea the course and speed are most important. Any 
land or vessels in sight and the possibility of rocks or 
shoals round about are necessary information. If in 
company with other battleships the situation becomes one 
of almost constant anxiety. 

One watch Migg never forgot. He had taken the 
deck for the afternoon. The Alaska was in column, third 
behind the flagship. Exactly 500 yards astern of her 
was another man-of-war. And all were tearing along 
at something like eighteen' knots. Suddenly a flash of 
color shot to the flagship’s yardarm. Migg seized his 
battle signal book and translated the flags. 

Column right, forty-five degrees,” he muttered. 

We keep our course.” Then to the helmsman, ‘‘ Hold 
your course ! ” he barked. The signal dropped. Instantly 
the great leader’s bulk sheered on to the right followed 
a few moments later by number two. 

101 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Then it happened. Man overboard 1 ’’ rang out from 
the Alaska's forecastle. Migg caught one glimpse of a 
blue blur in the gray water alongside. 

It was a crisis to try the nerves of an older man than 
any fresh caught “ junior loot.’’ But Migg had been 
there before. Not exactly this, but in tight holes where 
not only immediate action must come but the correct 
action. 

“ Hard left — stop both engines I ” he roared and 
sprang to the breakdown flag’s halliard. In the instant 
that he broke this emergency signal to the next astern he 
lowered his speed cones to show that his engines were 
stopping that the victim might not be cut to pieces by 
propellers. He never knew just when he clicked the auto- 
matic life buoy release, but he heard afterwards that the 
patent ring fell within ten feet of the struggling man 
and saved his life. 

Man overboard — man and away the starboard life- 
boat! " was taken up by bosun’s mates down the decks. 
Before the ship had lost her headway the heavy whaleboat 
was full-crewed and dangling over the licking seas. She 
dropped with a great splash and twelve oars bit in 

Yet there was no confusion. Migg’s orders had been 
sharp. His action had been (almost invisibly rapid. 
Helmsmen, signalmen, throttle-watch, lifeboat’s crew. 


102 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


and mates had merely carried out the simple commands 
»to which they had been drilled for days and months and 
years. 

The great danger and possibility of disaster lay in the 
officer of the deck, in Migg himself. Had his voice failed 
him, or the wrong word come, or any tiny variation from 
his routine been apparent to those under him, had he 
faltered but one instant, his weakness would have been 
communicated through the whole chain. 

As it was a hovering gull might have seen the column 
bend, a dark object fall from its middle, then a slowing 
and wrinkling, while a small boat slid into the water and 
sped to the dark object, picking it up and returning. 
Whereat the column moved again, gathered way and 
slipped out of sight in the deepening twilight. 

Migg grew to love maneuvers. It was the feeling of 
power he had when just a low spoken word would guide 
the huge ship this way and that. There came a sense of 
exhilaration when signals crackled almost faster than 
man could read them. And through it he realized not at 
all that steelymerved judgment was developing in his 
youthful inexperience until it must become a second 
nature. 

There were dark days, too. After a month of final 
overhaul the Alaska joined the fleet for maneuvers. 


103 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Gruelling work of preparation and development gave 
little time for liberty or leave. Not that anyone wished 
to be free. But the misery of knowing war was on and 
not being able to take an active part in it was enough to 
get any he-man’s goat. 

How was it, Migg? ” was often heard in the mess- 
room. ‘‘Is the real thing worth while? You’ve been 
there — tell us.” 

To which Migg would supply a frail answer to the 
effect that anything was better than waiting, and that he 
guessed fighting was pretty good fun, or some other 
such asinine and indefinite statement. But inside of him 
would rise such quick response to the question that even 
gripped fists and bitten lips could not throttle his desire 
to get away. “ Gad 1 ” he’d say and grit his teeth. “ I’ll 
go bugs with this sort of thing ! 

But he didn’t for two reasons. First he was busy 
every moment of the day, and sometimes of the night. 
Than which there is no better antidote for insanity. Sec- 
ond, there was the Best Girl. And, if you doubt his 
patriotism, remember the British soldier who wiped the 
blood smear from the picture he carried over his heart 
before he bound up his shattered arm. Furthermore — 
going back to Migg — ^there was that “ nice boy named 
Cherrill ” who had the forward turret. Was it possible 
104 


A DIVISION OFFICER 

that one maid can be a Best Girl to two men? Migg had 
his suspicions. 

The point is worthy of note and has a direct bearing 
on our subject. Olne of the greatest naval writers has 
said that to overlook sex in the youth of our navy is to 
strike at the very foundation of future victory on the sea. 

Target practice was due in the fall. Spring had been 
full of fleet work, battle problems at sea, and so forth. 
Fair summer months at sea had given good opportunity 
for individual ship training. Now each unit in the fleet 
would compete turret by turret for gun supremacy of 
the Western Atlantic — ^perhaps of the world, who knows? 

Nearly a year on deck with his own men had given 
Migg his sea legs. He had a natural faculty for hand- 
ling men and with no great effort had acquired a fair 
degree of mechanical ability. He could swelter under a 
greasy gun^mount in the turret or lead a company of 
infantry over No Man’s Land ashore. 

He had become an efficient watch officer both at sea 
and in port, and realized what it meant to have a smart 
ship. He had taken his trick on courtmartial duty when 
only an immense amount of cramming produced any sort 
of legal aptitude in his seagoing brain. He had handled 
drunken liberty parties a patrol officer ashore and was 
for some weeks a wet nurse to the congressional com- 


105 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 




mittee that cruised aboard. In short, he was a full-fledged 
division oflicer — except for one thing. He had not yet 
fired a target practice. 

Which is where the Best Girl and Cherrill and war 
came in. The Best Girl because she had asked Migg up 
for the very week his ship would be on the range; 
Cherrill, because he also was invited; and war, because 
for once Migg became too interested to moan over the ; 
peacefulness of his eternal drilling and training. j 

The main fuss and flurry in this gun business lay •; 
not so much in the tragic seriousness of its preparation to ; 
destroy other fleets and peoples as it was to ‘‘put the , 
bug ’’ on other ships of one’s own people and on other ' 
people: of one’s own ship. And since Captain Glovely ^ 
boasted that he was going to bring home the bacon he i 
unofficially promised certain rewards to those under him. 
The turret officer with the high score was going to get . 
an extra week of leave. Which had bearing on the Migg- 
Best Girl-Cherrill triangle. 

Here censorship draws the curtain. The government, 
as it were, draws the curtain while we taxpayers sit back 
and fret. But we know that something of great moment 
is going on behind that curtain. 

For instance, we see fresh young officers grow older 
visibly. Their eyes show it. When we ask questions 
106 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


I they dilate upon the psychology of driving men to mo- 
ments. They mean that modem gunnery is scientific 
I management to the nth power. That a hundred men 
; in a turret are put through an inconceivable monotony 
j of drill and drill and drill. That these men become ma- 
i chines with their turret officer’s bare command as the 
j actuating mechanism which sets the 'train in motion, 
j “ 'Load ! ” cries Lieutenant Migg, or Cher rill, or any 
!' one of the thousand King-Pins we have. Out of the pit 
I at his feet come sounds such as forty seasick earthquakes 

If might make. He squats on the brink of an 1 8-inch thick 

ri . 

j cylinder of steel which is thirty feet in diameter — barbette 
j is the trade name of it. He faces a tangle of voice tubes 
j and telephones through which he can communicate into 
! the belly of the mammoth. 

“ Load ! ” echo powderman fifty feet below. Huge 
bags of smokeless tinder shoot out from under the maga- 
zine flaps and are whirled into the cars. A double stage 
passed ( for safety) and they spin into the rammer tray. 

But even sooner : “ Load ! ” has screamed an excitable 
— he seems so — Irish shellman. And like magic an 1800- 
pound shell is wafted away up into the breech of the 
hungry gun followed closely by some 400 pounds of pow- 
der in bags which nestle against the projectile’s base. 

107 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Follows a period of quiet. Only comparative though, 
for motors still hum and gears growl their frantic in- 
sistence that high power telescopic sights-wires shall cut 
the bullseye. A heavy task this is when 500 tons of turret 
and gun steel must follow every infinitesimal motion of 
the sight. 

Range changes arrive with even monotony on the 
visuals. A ringing ululation of oil-gear pinions announces 
that the new range is set. Down through handling rooms 
the next shell and more bags are poised and ready. Men 
stand clear and wait. 

The crash comes. Seems as if the whole ship has 
blown up. Her decks rise with the terrific concussion. 
Blinding flame casts its yellow glare clear into the ’tween 
deck spaces. 

Again the quick convulsions of load and fire. And 
once more volcanic forces seem to tear the sturdy man- 
of-war striake from chrome-steel strake. 

‘‘ Gosh! ” ejaculates Migg a little weakly when it’s all 
over, ‘‘ guess we smeared her that time.” 

Yes,” Cherrill replies, even more faintly — ^that is, for 
a big strong man, “ we got ’em out anyway.” Meaning 
that there had been no missfires or hangfires or flarebacks 
or any of the dozen other accidents that can befall a 
turret in this deadly occupation. ’Tis strain of knowing 
108 


A DIVISION OFFICER 


! j! all this so very surely that leaves the two a bit limp and 
: over-friendly for once. 

' Then they clean up. Not just the grime of powder 
crust and gun-grease, or the tired unshavenness of their 
I persons. But all the myriad postmortem examinations 
and readjustments that big guns need after the terrible 
punishment they have undergone. 

Who won? Who knows? For scores in the fleet are 
: not just hits and misses, jagged tears in the canvas screens 
1 or wrecked target rafts. Results are computed from a 
I multitude of factors. Time of firing, range, roll and 
pitch of ship, and other numberless details are taken into 
i mathematical consideration by the umpires before an- 
! nouncing the scores. 

Then one day the captain sends for his faithful hench- 
men, the division officers. In his hand is a bit of red- 
rimmed paper. It is a dispatch from headquarters. 
Chances are he doesn’t even read it — not at first, anyway. 

He glances around and smiles. The division officers 
squirm. Holy Scuttlebutts ! why doesn’t he speak ? 

Finally he does : Mr. Migg, let me congratulate 


you- 


V 


A STAFF OFFICER 

Migg said afterwards it was the Limey’s story got him ‘ 
into trouble. But now that he’s had his crack at being a ^ 
'' Staff Loafer” (as the service says), and the gash on ‘ 
the admiral’s head has shrunk to a stitch-nicked scar he J 
realizes that his period of duty as aide was no more than -j 
an interesting chapter in his naval career. 

The U. S. "Alaskans Fourth Ward were entertaining. 

Fourth Ward ” means the lower section of a battleship’s ; 
wardroom mess. At the head of the long table sat the 
commander who was executive officer, flanked by his heads 
of departments, gunnery, engineering, etc. This was the 
First Ward. At the other end were gathered a dozen or so 
young lieutenants who made up the so^lled Fourth 
Ward. Migg, divisional officer of the high-score turret 
in the fleet, was Fourth Ward boss. He led movements 
to albolish beans on Sunday and to elect chaplains as per- 
manent mess treasurers. ’Twas he that had promoted the 
idea of seizing every opportunity to gather in those who 
had been at the front. On this afternoon a British cruiser 
had slipped unexpectedly into the Roads. Half an hour 


110 


A STAFF OFFICER 


after she had dropped the hook a calling committee from 
: the Alaska skinned up her gangway to the tune of a bosun’s 
; pipe. Migg’s invitation was now being answered by a 
t pair of bronzed bean-poles — a type to which the younger 
\ generation of John Bull’s seafaring men seem to run. 

‘‘ Of course, it may 'be only top-side gossip,” one of 
i the visitors was saying who wore a decoration, and had 
[ been at Jutland and other places less notorious (so far, 
i at least). ‘‘But Catherwood swears his boss got it 
! straight from headquarters. Carthy’s buttling for the big 
!i admiral now, you know — ^personal aide and all that. 

“It was round about Dogger Bank time when the 
! Hairy Hun could take his boats out for a spin with less 
I gooseflesh than now. There’s some dispute about how 
i many buckets he had on his string, but when one of our 

i divisions came up to wind’ard he didn’t hesitate to at- 

1 . ^ . 

j tack. There wasn’t anything to do but ‘ beat it ’ as you 
I say, and that’s what our bunch did. 

“>We had the speed and should have got away in no 
time. But the day was just muggy enough to have let us 
get in close — ^say twelve thousand yards, before picking 
up the enemy. Then what should the bloody fog do but 
lift and leave the division like a burglar after the light 
button’s been pressed. 


Ill 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


'' By that time we’d turned-to on ’em with our after 
turrets and were laying out some soup of our own with 
oil smoke. But the barometer was against us and the 
black curtain wouldn’t hang. We were just naturally in 
for it. 

“ Of course, all hands were at battle stations, either 
with the guns or standing by behind armor. The ad- 
miral, however, was out in the open. He could have got 
inside the conning tower but so much depended upon 
seizing what little advantage he ,could at the beginning 
that he took a chance and stuck at the bridge end with 
his flag lieutenant and a couple of quartermasters.” 

The speaker stopped and with an apology leaned over 
to his countryman two seats down. Is the name out 
yet? ” he half whispered. The other shook his head. 

“ I’m sorry,” he went on to the mess, “ but you’ll 
have to guess the name of the aide I am talking about; 
though that’s easy if you only figure who’s gone up quick- 
est in the last home fleet promotion schedule. He de- 
served it, all right enough. Still — well, luck’s a queer 
thing.” 

Here suddenly the Englishman stiffened and sat up. 
He dropped his natural reserve. His open hand lifted 
and came down heavily on the table. “ By God ! ” he 
exclaimed, ‘‘you’ve got to call it luck when a kid like 


112 


A STAFF OFFICER 


— like the flag lieutenant I was telling you about, lands 
flat-footed in an admiral’s boots in the thick of a major 
naval engagement. 

‘‘ The signal was just up for ‘ ships right fifteen de- 
grees.’ We’d been a bit ahead of the enemy and could 
afford to ease away. They’d already straddled twice on 
the rear ship and salvo slicks were curdling the flag 
ship’s twenty-five knot wake. Next came a couple of 
overs, you know the noise' — like a train going into a 
tunnel. Then she was hit. 

“ Explosive shell it was. Laid ’em all flat on the 
bridge and carried away the signal halliards. The flag 
loot was up first, sore as sox that his hoist had gone. 
Luckily the ships hadn’t answered. He turned to ask 
the boss permission to repeat on the other yard arm. Then 
he realized the old man was down for good. 

‘‘ Of course, the captain could have taken charge. But 
he was in his little armored hen-coop of a conning tower. 
He couldn’t see any too much, and up to this moment 
had really been too busy handling his own ship to be up 
on what was happening along the column astern. To 
make matters more immediate than ever, one of the 
quartermasters reported heavy smoke showing up nearly 
dead ahead. A moment later both men realized that a 
division of hostile destroyers was standing down on them. 


8 


113 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


‘‘ Which is where the fairy tale part of it comes in. 
Seems so, anyway. The flag loot must have gone off his 
head or seen a vision, or whatever it is a genius does 
when he flashes. He grasped his good halliards, digs a 
pair of flags out of the box, shoots them up like rockets. 
It means swing in and head for the enemy’s squadron, 
crash into double odds — ^blisterin’ spit-kits I what a trick. 
Sure he might have tried to break for the small craft. 
But — ^so he testified in the court afterward — ^he figured 
that since there were only four ships in his. division the 
destroyers would sure get them all; while if he took a 
quick smash at the enemy he might at least account for 
an equal number, particularly as he had the weather gage. 

“ You’ve heard the rest. The Blondies thought we’d 
sighted reinforcemen-ts from our own fleet. In about 
two clicks of a gyro they decided to clear out. We fol- 
lowed, slowing a couple of knots so they would draw 
away, and opening fire with small guns on the destroyers 
behind. By jamming the wireless we kept the little fel- 
lows out and managed to hold clear until dark, when 
we made off home.” 

It was very simply told. Nothing of the foaming 
gray monsters shaking the North Sea swell aside as if in 
wrath at this tiny human thing inside which forbade them 
come to grips. Nothing of the thundering flaming guns. 


114 


A STAFF OFFICER 


of tearing metal, and deafening crashings of explosions. 
Nothing of the colossal power beneath it all. Yet Migg 
could see. He leaned forward in his chair, intense. 

You say the flag lieutenant got a court? he asked. 

Naturally. He wasn’t over twenty-five and just a 
lieutenant. They called it unwarranted assumption of 
authority in the specifications. Scared him stiff. But, 
gad, what could they do to him when he’d pulled the 
division out of such a hole, had sunk two German battle 
cruisers and at least three destroyers, and then brought 
the detachment out whole? Why there was one of the 
admiralty crowd wanted to give him a division of dread- 
noughts then and there, though he hadn’t commanded 
so much as a tin tub in all his lifetime! ” 

The remainder of Migg’s evening passed as a dream. 
He was a lieutenant. He had proved in destroyers that 
he could deliver the goods when the moment demanded. 
There was no tangible reason why the spectacular suc- 
cess of another man’s good fortune might not be dupli- 
cated when America got down to business. 

Here he was a cracking good division officer on the 
Alaska. She was flag ship now and in his heart Migg 
realized that not one of the staff had failed to notice the 
smart young officer whose turret scores were set up in 
the yearly target practice reports as navy standards. 

115 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Within a week after the admiral had arrived Migg 
had received his first bid for a job. The chief of staff, 
Captain Willis, called him in. “ Sit down, Mr. Migg, 
and tell me how you’d like to join us,” he said, getting 
to the point at once. 

“ I can’t quite say, sir,” was Migg’s cautious reply. 
‘‘ Really, I’ve never considered it.” 

'' Oh, yes you have,” laughed the captain. “ You’ve 
sat down there in mess and ridiculed the ^ staves.’ You’ve 
wondered how a he-man could put up with such a job. 
And you’ve described an aide as half clerk and half 
servant.” 

Having like all young officers done and said these 
very things, Migg was a little embarrassed. So he sat 
tight and grinned sheepishly. 

'' The trouble is,” the older man went on, you’ve 
never stopped to analyze the proposition. In the first 
place, you must enlarge your wlhole perspective in order 
to do so. At this moment your mind is concentrated on 
the battleship as a unit. She is commanded by an inde- 
pendent person who rules here elements of guns and gear 
and men and engines. He handles the whole as a weapon 
against our enemy. 

Now multiply the job by ten and you have the 
admiral. He commands several battleship divisions of 


116 


A STAFF OFFICER 


four ships each. In a measure he commands the men 
and gear on them in the same manner as a captain would 
his ship, or a turret officer his men and guns. It is only a 
question of dimensions. 

“ Consider the staff. There are eight of us. I cor- 
respond to the executive officer of the ship. My admin- 
istrative powers supplant those of the admiral under ordi- 
nary conditions. If anything serious comes up I concede 
to him the final decision, but ordinarily I’m the man who 
runs this section of the fleet. I don’t mean to say the 
admiral doesn’t carry his share. It is only that my assist- 
ance relieves him of a vast number of details and leaves 
his wider experience and wisdom free to tackle the broad 
principles of naval tactics and strategy.” 

Migg nodded courteously, though he wasn’t quite sure 
towards what goal the conversation was being directed. 
The chief continued his analogy: 

Again, as in the ship, I have my assistants or heads 
of departments. There is the aide for gunnery, another 
for engineering, and a third for personnel. A staff pay- 
master and a staff surgeon complete the list of specialists. 
Each supervises the work in our ships along the lines in 
which he is expert. Each has been selected for having 
shown unusual talent in his professional branch. For 
instance. Smith, my force engineer, was for nearly three 


117 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


yearsi chief engineer of one of the biggest men-of-war 
we have. Twice he won the engineering trophy, and he is 
a recognized expert on turbines and boilers. Reacock, 
you know, of course, has pulled down' the gunnery pennant 
twice. It wasn’t pull got them their jobs, but pure effi- 
ciency and ability.” 

There was a pause while the chief of staff relit his 
cigar and signed several letters a yeoman had brought. 
Two messengers and an orderly announced certain mes- 
sages of information from the officer of the deck and the 
commanding officer, which were relayed on to the admiral. 
Migg noted with admiration the shrewd way in which 
unimportant matter was eliminated and only those details 
forwarded which were of general interest and value. 
Obviously the chief had the force of battleships at his 
finger-tips. 

Interruptions having been dealt with came the ques- 
tion, What was it I was saying? ” 

To which Migg murmured something about the great 
deal of rank on a staff. 

Not entirely,” Captain Willis went on, ‘‘ or I 
wouldn’t be talking all this time with you. These fellows 
directly under me are commanders or lieutenant-com- 
manders, but after them come several billets which may 
be held by youngsters of your rank. Flag secretary and 
118 


A STAFF OFFICER 


flag lieuitenant to an admiral are two very personal aides 
who come more nearly being private secretaries than 
anything else. The former has general charge of the 
admiral’s oflice with six or eight yeomen, and, under 
guidance of myself as well as the specialists, directs the 
correspondence for our squadron, or for as many divi- 
sions of ships as are present. The latter, as his name in- 
dicates, is primarily a bridge aide. At sea he manages 
the signal force and carries out maneuvers according to 
the old man’s wishes. In port he is general handy man 
standing by to assist the admiral in any or all of his 
diversified duties. Though he may be the baby of the 
staff he is often the best qualified to relieve the admiral in 
an emergency.” 

With these words there flashed over Migg the memory 
of the Limey’s story. 

Now here’s what I’m getting at. The admiral has 
noticed you and likes your looks. He has looked up your 
record and the captain has several times bragged about 
your success as a divisional officer here. When an ad- 
miral wishes a certain officer on his staff he has only to 
ask for him and Washington makes a point of seeing that 
the proper orders are issued. One detail remains; the 
officer himself is always given a chance to refuse if for 
any reason he might consider himself professionally un- 
119 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


fitted for the duty. This is your chance. How about it ? ’’ 

'^'You mean/’ Migg faltered, that the admiral really 
asks me to come with him? ” The tone of the question 
was not meant to deceive. But the chief of staff smiled 
inwardly at what he believed was the younger man’s 
natural delight at being offered so great an honor. As a 
matter of fact, the flames of Migg’s quick imagination 
were illuminating a glaring spectacle of naval ibattle with 
a wounded admiral stretched along the rough bridge- 
gratings and Migg himself leading the American fleet 
into a tiunult of glorious victory. ‘‘ Yes,” he agreed al- 
most dreamily ; then realizing his part, added with quick 
courtesy: ‘'Of course. I’ll be delighted to come.” 

“ It won’t be anything big at first,” his benefactor 
explained. “ Just now we’re losing our communication 
officer. He acts as assistant to the radio officer in hand- 
ling all dispatches as well as confidential and secret mat- 
ter having to do with the great amount of coding and 
deciphering we are burdened with during war time. Both 
officers are junior members of the staff but we depend 
on them for an immense amount of vitally important 
work which is permitted to be done only by commissioned 
officers. You will pick up your radio again and be pre- 
pared to take a watch with the radio officer in turn. You 
know we are requiring certain officers to be expert radio 
120 


A STAFF OFFICER 


operators. In the war zone nothing could be more im- 
portant than a proper and intelligent control of the air/’ 

So it came about that between his own imagination 
and the machinations of the chief of staff Migg found 
himself transferred to the admiral’s corps of assistants. 

He didn’t realize so much what this meant until he 
sat down to lunch on the day his change of duty was an- 
nounced. ‘‘ What in heck’s got into you? ” demanded the 
senior watch, ‘‘Is it spring fever, or just plain loco?” 

And when Migg looked around before replying to 
this question, which was all too sincere, he perceived how 
deep was the abyss he had put between himself and his 
shipmates. Ho longer could he join their little after 
dinner confabs on target practice and hatch plans to trim 
the fleet. His interest in target practice was now a cut 
and dried thing of schedules and gear supply and dates, 
and centered not in one ship but in a dozen. No longer 
could he boast the prowess of his ship’s boat crew or 
ball team. Among his new tasks was that of being 
force athletic officer and up to him was the often irksome 
occupation of promoting proper and well-divided rivalry 
among the various teams coming under the province of 
his admiral’s domain. Not that there wasn’t in the ships 
a boundless desire to play just as there was to shoot. But 
it took consistent planning and scheming to coordinate 
121 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


all this spirit into a practicable and valuable asset. His j 
loyalty now lay with the supreme command of that group 
of vessels. Any personal interest in an individual ship 
must cease. He must direct his energies to the general ' 
welfare of a large section of the navy rather than to the 
more human and fascinating development of a small body 
of men and guns. He felt he had lost much. 

But his gloom did not persist. New duties soon re- 
placed the void left by past associations. Wireless teleg- 
raphy had been his hobby as a boy. Now he found a 
new delight in handling the big ship set through which 
he was in communication with nearly the entire world, 
in receiving messages at least. 

One little stunt he pulled off was characteristic of his 
nature. After several weeks of preparation he relieved 
the radio officer. Having then a pretty free hand with 
the electrical gear he rigged an eirtension from the main 
aerial down to his room. 

It didn’t take the mess long to notice that Migg 
disappeared every night about ten. “ Gone up to get 
press,” said one, meaning that he was probably in the 
radio room receiving the official press news sent out by 
Washington. '' No,” contradicted another, I’ve looked 
there twice. And his room’s dark.” 


122 


A STAFF OFFICER 


Then someone had a hunch and investigated. He 
found Migg on his bunk in darkness. To his head was 
strapped a radio telephone. When cross-examined by 
the curious he only grinned and said that he was enjoying 
the war news. The truth was that having in destroyer 
duty once tasted the wine of war he found comfort for 
the burning thirst he’d learned by lying in the dark and 
picking bit by bit from the air the awfulness of human 

conflict. “ Trench raids ” or “ Submarines sunk 

or even less than phrases squeaked into the little 

ear-piece from out of :the night and kindled in his heart 
an answering determination to have his share in the great 
fight. 

From time to time he helped the flag secretary get 
out his voluminous reports on maneuvers and plowed 
through reams of official correspondence which bored him 
to the point of distraction. Migg’s executive ability was 
of a hand-to-mouth type. He could handle matters so 
long as he could see and touch them. But this indescrib- 
able tangle of letters and instructions and surveys and 
estimations and plans and reports with which the sec- 
retary dealt really terrified him. It seemed like some in- 
visible demon which reached with remorseless and cling- 
ing fingers for the professional spirit of him that would 
try to fend it off. And the end would surely be a grue- 
123 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

some strangulation in red tape. Not for mine/' said 
Migg. 

But he was good on deck. He loved the bridge and 
signalling, and made a point of keeping up with fleet 
maneuvers as each new development came into force. 
The admiral found him a help in interpreting the novel 
war tactics which submarines had necessitated. Not a 
few times was he able to pull the flagship out of trouble 
by his clever guesses at what was intended by the rather 
obscure instructions from headquarters. 

One morning the flag lieutenant s.ent for him. “ Migg, 
I’ve got a week off and the Old Man is going to let you 
take my place in the next spell of tactical exercises. It’ll 
be mostly independent work for :the various ships^ — ^that 
is, they will disperse and practice battle approaches on 
each other. Going out and into port is where you’ll have 
most to do.” 

Migg had to let go his joy in a grin. “ That’s great,” 
he said. ‘‘ But be sure you give me all the dope, signal 
books, recognition calls, and other stuff. I don’t want to 
get us in bad ! ” 

“ Don’t worry. It’s all set down in the instructions. 
And, by the way, be sure the barge is slicked up. You 
know you have to make offlcial calls with the admiral 
and he’s pretty keen on having a good-looking boat.” 

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Early next morning Migg was called up to the cabin. 
“ Have the barge for me at ten/’ was the word, “ Vm 
calling on the commander-in-chief.” At once he saw that 
the last touch was given the boat’s brightwork, that side- 
boys were lined at the gangway and that he himself was 
decked out in his smartest uniform. 

At this conference it was decided that the ships should 
get under way the following day at noon. Final arrange- 
ments were made for mail and provisions with special 
regard for refuelling after the long steaming. 

Signals for heaving short the anchors, and then for 
heaving up, were flown in plenty of time. Ten minutes 
before the moment set the admiral appeared on the 
bridge. “ Have they all answered? ” he asked sweeping 
his binoculars along the gray column. 

Yes, sir,” smartly from Migg. 

All right, haul down.” 

As the flags fluttered to the bridge a dull thumping 
was borne down with the breeze while each powerful 
anchor engine wrested its heavy ‘‘ mud-hook ” from the 
harbor bottom. Simultaneously the huge men-of-war 
swung into an even file and slipped through the road- 
stead’s entrance. 

Succeeding days were bright for Migg. His part was 
to translate the admiral’s desires into signals and to see 


125 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


that each ship answered correctly first and then obeyed |) 
with precision and accuracy when the maneuver was ex- : 
ecuted. Changes of formation followed one another "'i 
during the daylight hours with mathematical regularity. ' 
’Twas a drill of ships, yet in no way were their gliding ' 
movements to be compared with the awkward angularity 
of troops. Rather was it like some graceful square dance 
on the sparkling lawn of the sea. 

A heavy storm came out of the southwest and for 
forty-eight hours the fleet wallowed in the trough of a 
beam wind, preserving only a semblance of cruising 
formation. 

Gradually the course swung round home. A good 
land- fall was made and the entrance buoys cleared evenly 
on either side. The admiral looked a little haggard after 
the strain of responsibility he had been under. But Migg 
was fresh as a puppy, most likely from the zest with 
which he had taken the work. 

Have the mooring signal ready,” cautioned the 
admiral. We’ll be here several days and I won’t have 
them fouling one another as well as their own anchors.” 
He scratched his chin with a bony finger. And I guess 
we’ll do it shipshape,” he added. ‘‘ So slow ’em down 
and moor together.” 


126 


Copyright by Burnell Poole 

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In obedience to this Migg gave the ‘‘ two-thirds speed ” 
signal, then one-third ” and finally hoisted “ moor ” — 
meaning that when the flags fell each ship would drop 
an anchor, pay out chain, then drop another so that she 
would be held to a span of cable leading from the pair of 
anchors. 

The squadron made a fine sight with their gray sides 
dusted white by the salt of a week at sea. Even their 
black smoke was a clean ebony against the blue sky and 
reflected in sallow bands across the sparkling blue water. 
Migg glanced back along the solid column oi leviathans 
and thrilled with the pride of having them tied, as it 
were, to the thread of his bunting’s halliard. Once more 
he thought of the Limey’s tale. 

It is not to his discredit that he missed one tiny item 
in the scene about him. The ship was being got ready for 
port. Among other routine preparations searchlight 
covers were coming off. Just over the bridge on a plat- 
form of the cage mast squatted a big sixty-inch light 
casing. At its base fumbled a man who would undo the 
canvas lacing. In his back pocket was a heavy wrench. 
This wrench was not well caught. Naturally then, when 
the man slipped and joggled, the wrench worked out. 
Finally it toppled over and fell. The admiral was directly 
underneath. 


127 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


The admiral was not killed because his heavy cap 
visor deflected the wrench’s blow. But he was knocked 
down and he stayed down, with a trickle of blood run- 
ning from under a blue-edged, gash across his temple. 

Migg’s first impulse was to help the wounded man. 
In the same instant his whole being caught like a steel 
spring. The mooring signal was up. Every moment a 
dozen men-of-war swept closer to their berths beyond 
which — ^only a little way — lay danger. 

Here it was — ^that for which he had lain awake and 
dreamed. To the word of his mouth, to the small lift of 
his hand, must answer an assemblage of ships of war. 
He had reached in a bound that pinnacle of authority 
and command — be it only for the minute — which naval 
officers live strong and loyal lives for. 

But his sense of it was weak. How wretchedly in- 
adequate it was, amazed him. What was this great act 
he was about to perform? Merely tell a signal-boy to 
lower a pair of cheese-cloth flags. The navigator would 
say when — and anyone could navigate. He would set in 
motion a great chain of events when he gave haul down.” 
But the events, the actual anchoring and all else, must 
be only as the circus to a spectator. Little matter what 
the staggering agility of the acrobat, the man who looks 
on — no more. 


128 


A STAFF OFFICER 


^'•Poor stuff,” said Migg some months later from the 
vantage of a destroyer’s cabin. Thought I’d like it, too. 
Of course, it was great to signal them this and that, make 
’em dance as me and the Old Man pleased. But it takes 
an old ’un to appreciate the judgment game, when it’s 
all guessing right and never a bit of action. That time 
he got hurt I was admiral myself for a few minutes. 
But, heck, when I hauled down and the bunch started into 
moor and I could hear ’em fight for time I was as lone- 
some as a stray cat.” 

‘‘ But didn’t the boss think well of you for it? ” 

Migg laughed a little bitterly. ‘‘ Guess so,” he said 
shortly, but not in the way that counts. After a 
minute, when he’d come to, ‘ how are they making out,’ 
he asks. And I, all of a jump to see the old ship nick 
the record for mooring time, pops out : ' It’s up to Peter- 
son, he’s got the maul.’ To which he answers: ‘ Maul, 
fiddlesticks! What I want to know is will they all 
swing to port with the tide? ’ You see, he was thinking 
of a dozen ships, while I had just one on my mind — God 
bless her ! ” 

And shaking his head with rueful emphasis Migg took 
the proffered gloves and put them on for a round or so of 
real action, not logistics, nor strategics, nor tactics, but 
honest red-blood action. 

Which is youth. 

9 


VI 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 

Our friend the gunnery officer told us thisi yarn. He 
imposed no conditions of secrecy. In fact, we think he 
hoped some of the details would leak out. When a man 
gets across the way he did people ought to know about it. 

* * * * * 

The fellow that started that platitude about all being 
fair in love and war ought to have added and gunnery. 

I don’t mean we’re being crooked. Honor is the keynote 
of the navy. But, like modern business, gimnery is going ■ 
ahead so fast these days that a man has to pick the new 
kinks himself if he wants to win. Not a gunnery officer i 
in the fleet hasn’t invented or developed some gadget or i 
method to promote the game. 

He doesn’t blab it, either, the first night the inspira- 
tion comes. But he takes his scheme, the device he’s 
worked up or the loophole he’s found in the rules, and 
cleans up target practice for the year. Then, when the 
pennant is safely nailed to his masthead, out he comes 
with a loud guffaw and lets the bunch in on his secret. 

I didn’t want the job. Good thing I didn’t. There’s 
something in getting sore that puts pep into a man. 


130 


SPLASHES FROM BIG GUNS ARE 3OO FEET HIGH. THE TARGET VISIBLE OVER THE MAN's RIGHT ARM IS SEVERAl 

HUNDRED YARDS ASTERN OF THE TOWING SHIP 






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A GUNNERY OFFICER 

Kenwith had the assistant chief of bureau’s desk up 
in the department at the time. ''What’s the matter 
now ? ” he asked when I blew in black like a Chesapeake 
squall. " Got your orders yet? ” 

" Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” I snapped back. 
Makes me sore when those swivel chair artists think 
they’re getting smooth and diplomatic. They can’t fool 
their old shipmates though. Ken and I used to wade to- 
gether in the public fountain at Nagasaki after a big 
night of it. 

" What I want to know,” I said, coming to the point 
at once, " is why you’re soaking me with this nerve de- 
stroying gunnery job? ” 

" You poor ham,” he laughed, " what else are you 
good for just now? Two years as naval steel and ord- 
nance inspector at one of the biggest mills in the country — 
not a man in the outfit knows armor better than you do.” 

" So that’s the game,” said I. " Well, how about 
being chief engineer of one of the electric drive ships? 
You know I put in six months with the General Electric.” 

" Nothing doing. Old Top. You’ve named the very 
chief reason the Bureau of Ordnance has selected you 
for one of our newest and largest ships. Turret gear is 
becoming more purely electrical every year. Design and 
installation more complex. Upkeep no longer means shin- 


131 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


ing brightwork in the week — and standing by with full 
dress and a happy smile on Sundays. There’s a delicacy 
and strength needed in ordnance that’d do credit to a 
surgeon.” 

I began warming up in spite of myself. That’s 
right,” I broke in. '' And say, Ken, do you remember 
that time we took your new range-finder apart and couldn’t 
get it back together again? ” 

He laughed. But he wouldn’t leave this point. I 
was coming to that very thing,” he went on. You’ve 
been a broadside gun officer and had your own turret. 
You’ve dug into the guts of the blame things. It’s in 
you, this mechanical bug. So far as the service is con- 
cerned at present it’s the best thing you’ve got, and it’s 
up to you to let us use it. 

It may have been the way he said it but I couldn’t 
help noticing a nice warm glow) of satisfaction come over 
me. 

The truth was that I had put in some years in the 
fleet as a watch and division officer and enjoyed it. When 
I was sent ashore for instruction in powder and steel I 
thought there was nothing like it in the world. I didn’t 
realize that I was narrowing down to a single groove. 

Don’t you see,” said Ken before I left, “ that what - 
we need is specialists ? This navy business is getting too 

132 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


big for one man to carry all of it in his head. Of course, 
captains and admirals are broad, but their specialty is ad- 
ministration. When they want any dope they go to- their 
particular specialists at hand. Compared to the rest of 
us you are a specialist in optics, powder chemistry, and 
steel. So you’ve got to be a skipper’s expert counsellor 
in those subjects. Shake, Mr. Gunnery Officer — shake! ” 

And I shook. 

But I had my misgivings on the train going up. I 
always do on the way to the navy yard. The dirt 
and noise in the miserable places irritate my seafaring 
constitution. 

And the spell of Kenwith’s blarney was wearing off. 
No doubt I was pretty well up on the gil-guys of guns, and 
motors, and telescopic sights, and powder surveillance. 
But that wasn’t all of it by any means. 

Blare of a bugle interrupted my reflections. Squads 
right I ” echoed even above the noise of the trolley car in 
which I was bound to the yard. A long column of blue 
jackets flattened from squads into line, halted and fell 
out. The car was mobbed. Laughing and talking, and 
fairly glowing with freedom, the men showed their gay 
spirits like children. I caught the name on the cap rib- 
bon of one and read U. S. S. — — ^ It was the 


133 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


afternoon liberty party from the ship of which I was billed ^ 
to be gunnery officer. 

“ There you are, old Cockywax,” said I to myself. 1 
“ There’s your job cut out all right, all right. They’re a 

bustiferous fine bunch and there are five hundred of ’em, : 

f 

or so, you’ll have on your old pea shooters. But how i 
’bout this liberty business? Half the afternoon and all ! 
evening, all the evening and part of next morning — while \ 
the rest of the fleet’s out at sea plugging night and day 
to beat you. Officers, too. What sort of organization do i 
you think you’ll have with half the bunch on leave or i 
otherwise employed ? Specialist — rats ! ” 

I chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in the way ; 
I felt. I was old enough to analyze. Training men is 
like training animals. It is training animals. Sawdust ' 
and whip connote obedience. But let whiff of the pasture | 
or jungle tingle in the monster’s nostrils and the master’s | 
spell is lost. Clean sweep of the sea to the sailorman | 
means work and drill. But give him a breath of the oily 
dankness about docks and his pulse comes aflame with 
desire. His feet itch for the beach. His dollars are like f 
hot coals in the nape of his pocketless trousers. | 

“ 'I won’t have it 1 ” roared the skipper the day after [ 
I reported. These men have been at sea five months | 
out of the past six without more than week-ends in port.” ^ 

134 I 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


“ But we are due for target practice next month,” I 
explained, and the rest of the fleet are whipping into 
shape this very minute.” 

Right enough,” he came back a little less viciously, 
no doubt seeing that I had the ship's interest at heart. 

But I've been at this game a great number of years, I 
know men. Regular diversion is what they need; not 
much, but regular. And once in a while, say six months 
apart, they've got to have one whoop of a time. They've 
got to go ashore and stew in freedom. When all the 
poisons of past confinement have boiled up they'll come 
back and work their hearts out for you.” 

The skipper was right. My suggestion had been to 
try alternate weeks of liberty and work during the period 
of the navy yard stay. But bedlam of navy yard work 
forbade. 

One day we coaled. Two days must elapse before we 
could be thoroughly clean again. Then ammunition 
barges would come and all hands must man winches, 
trucks, and whips, or lay below for stowing. Stores 
came in between times. And week-ends seemed to pile 
up faster than ever before in my life. From meals to 
Sunday mess it was a case of rush. 

‘‘ Decks are filthy,” I heard the commander tell Well- 
man, the first lieutenant, one morning. 


135 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


‘‘What can you expect, sir?’' was the harried 
answer. “ We’re checking turrets fore and aft.” He i 
pointed to the big wooden frames. “ Five thousand feet 1 
of new wiring must go in for the new fire control sys- ; 
tern. Every broadside gun must be run in and recoil ■ 
cylinders gone over. Deck-lugs up in number four bar- ; 
bette are to be renewed. And the yard gang complains 
that their air supply for pneumatic tools won’t suffice for 
all we want on oUr torpedo defense stations.” 

I stepped up. “ Looks hopeless, commander,” I said, ; 
laughing to show I didn’t really mean it. “ Down in my 
heart I wish we could send the whole thousand of them on 
leave and let the mechanics finish the job up right.” 

“ I understand, old man,” the commander was that 
kind, “ for I’ve been gunnery officer myself. You land 
in, port and eat your very heart out.” j 

“You bet,” said I, “ every single dumed time I get a * 
drill started, Bango! goes a call for all hands. Pay- : 
master has to get his stuff aboard. The chief goes crazy | 
if we hold him up on a cylinder head or anything heavy.” | 
“ Never mind,” broke in Wellman, screaming to make , 
himself heard above the pneumatic chippers, “ you’ll have | 
the board when we do get out. I know the Old Man. 
He’s all for finishing up in overhaul period. But once 
he’s out it’s gunnery that counts. He realizes that win- 


136 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


ning the pennant is about the biggest advertisement a 
ship and her officers can have in this little old navy.” 

It was the same sort of spirit I found among the 
younger watch officers. These were my real henchmen. 
One lieutenanf and one ensign for each of the five turrets 
and double that for the broadside divisions made up my 
gang. 

That same night I called in Migg who, as ranking 
lieutenant, was senior watch and had the forward turret. 

Well, how do things look for us?.'” I asked. 

“ Very promising, I think, sir.” 

Promising, your grandmother ! ” I banged back. 
“ What in heck sort of rainbow do you perceive in the 
dust cloud they keep us under here? ” 

He saw I was down to brass tacks and thought a 
moment before answering. ‘‘ It isn’t the work,” finally 
came out slowly. “ We’ve had the regular routine — in- 
fantry nearly every morning when we couldn’t use the 
turrets on account of workmen, pistol butts and rifle range, 
two squads at a time; school and instruction, and all the 
other dull stunts we usually do in the yard.” 

“ Sure,” I broke in. “ But what’s that got to do with 
the big game? ” 

Not much, I admit,” said he, unless it keeps their 
hand in. But I wanted you to know the sort of spirit 


137 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


there is aboard. WeVe cleaned up this spring in base- 
ball. In the fall not a ship in the squadron scored on 
our football team. Raceboat crews have been organized 
in every division and feed in to the ship’s crew to make 
a top-notch aggregation. We hold two fleet belts for 
boxing, and the black gang have bribed a champion 
wrestler to join us.” 

The lad’s eyes shone. He wasn’t talking guns or 
battle. But in his earnest tones was that virility of human 
enthusiasm which makes guns win battle. 

Please don’t think I’m butting in,” he begged. 
‘‘ You’re boss, and we’re glad of it. But we have the 
makin’s of a crack ship — a pennant winner. And when 
we’ve got together over it we’ve always agreed that most 
of our capital is this very habit the ship’s company are 
getting of bragging about her ashore.” 

I couldn’t hold in. He had hit my religion on the 
nose. Migg, you’re on,” I said. ‘‘ We are officers, and 
we have to swallow the medicine of education. But 
underneath we’re all the same. Whether its target prac- 
tice or battle, football or coaling ship, competition is what 
counts. Stir that age-old instinct to survive and the men 
you lead will dare hell and triple damnation to win! Of 
course, they have to be taught. That means a drudgery 
of drill. Gear has to be flt ; which means gray hairs in the 
138 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


heads of those responsible. A riot of paper work must 
be quelled. Hideous nightmares of anxiety fill the eve 
of action. But taking it all in all such things are but 
trifles, mere bolts and sheets of paper and rapid orders. 
Spirit alone can win. Without it we’d be a giant engine 
without steam, a fretting carcass all maggoty with mis- 
directed efforts.” 

Migg laughed that nice understanding laugh of his I 
grew so fond of later on. “ We all realize it’s true, sir, 
just as you’ve put it. But, God knows, it certainly is 
rough sledding sometimes when a million strings of de- 
tail are holding a man’s nose to the grindstone.” 

We shook hands over it, and I went away feeling 
pretty good. I was captain of a great team. Now I 
knew my men had the right spirit. The big game was 
less than two months away. 

The rest of my time in the yard was occupied with 
checking the mass of new equipment and repairs for 
which my predecessor had found need. I had a fire 
control officer and several warrant officers to take charge 
of various branches of the work, and an efficient corps 
of yeomen to handle the vast amount of correspondence 
entailed. My bunk and desk were buried in blue prints 
and the offices were cyclonic centres of communication. 


139 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


After a final orgy of three sleepless days and nights j 
we got away. Clear O'f the harbor the skipper sent for 
me. He had gathered all the officers in his cabin. j 

We’re off,” he said shortly. ‘‘ Now what’s your 'j 
plan?” ! 

I looked around. It was my first good view of top- 
side material. The four heads of departments didn' t look i 
bored. I was glad of that. The watch officers appeared j 
expectant. Which was natural. The steerage bunch 
looked full of health. Then I happened to glance out of 
the after port. A strain from the noon band concert had 
caught my ear. Half a hundred men were dancing on 
the white, sunlit deck. Ten seconds perhaps the pause 
was. But in those seconds my inspiration came. 

‘‘ Gentlemen,” I told them, '' the captain has asked me 
to explain in so many words how we are going to win 
that pennant. He doesn’t mean the rules. We have all 
boned them and should be competent to carry out their 
complex requirements. He doesn’t mean our plugs and 
motors. We’ve been dreaming about them every night 
in the yard. He doesn’t refer to the ship, for she’s the 
finest in the world.” 

I stepped to the port. “ Captain,” I said, “ I believe 
your question was based on what’s out there. Five hun- 
dred happy, healthy men, loving the sunshine, the sea and 


140 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


life; without responsibility; keen, vigorous Americans to 
the core. Initiative is their middle name; resource a 

crisp invisible feather in the cap of each. Yet I 

hung up for a moment trying to nail the figure. ‘‘ Well, 
we’ve got to mold them. Hang it all ! We’ve got to make 
a great machine out of that crowd ; and we’ve got to do it 
without killing one iota of their souls.” 

The skipper let out a joyful “ haw ! ” “ That’s a rich 
one,” he chuckled, talking about souls in sailors. Liver’s 
my trouble.” Then his face dropped serious. “ I under- 
stand, though. And I believe you are on the right track. 
So go ahead.” 

I took out my notes. It looks simple enough on 
paper,” I began. ‘‘ We have so many guns, twelve four- 
teen inch and twenty-two five inch. There are something 
like three hundred separate and distinct jobs to be filled 
in loading, pointing, and firing 'these guns. In handling 
rooms the jobs repeat. So we need nearly two-thirds of 
our complement to fill. All we have to do is to pick the 
right man for the right job, perfect him to the minutest 
degree for that particular job, and run off the practice 
with clockwork precisian.” 

I earned the laugh that followed. They knew what 
miracles of achievement I was implying. 

I had a blackboard brought. ‘‘Look here, turret 
first.” I sketched a loading platform. “ This man must 


141 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


lean down twice after the plug is open and convey two 
powder bags to the breech. The weight of each ap- 
proaches one hundred pounds. He can do the whole 
thing now in approximately six seconds. By dissecting 
his movements, by being sure he is physically and men- 
tally fitted for the job his time can be cut to four seconds. 
Since time wins target practices — ^and battles — ^we can’t 
work for anything more precious.” 

“ How about hitting the target ? ” demanded the irre- 
pressible Migg. 

Just this,” said I, crossing to the bookcase and tak- 
ing down a James Psychology. They were too serious 
to laugh when I couldn’t find the place, and took my 
word for scientific fact. Some men,” I quoted roughly, 
are eye-men — ‘that is, their sight reacts more quickly 
than any other sense. Another type depends on hearing. 
And the reactions of not a few are rapid to touch. Eye- 
men make pointers and trainers. Telephone experts are 
invariably acousHfes. And so on. I have a set of labora- 
tory rules to help out. The leftovers, either through in- 
capacity or inexperience, you can sprinkle through hand- 
ling rooms and other less important stations.” 

It was a great afternoon. I hadn’t really very much 
to say. But by the time they had done asking questions 
and arguing it was dinner time. 


142 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


They took me at my word. It wasn’t a week later 
that the commander stopped me coming out of number 
two. Do you know,” he said, “ I was) a bit leary about 
all that psychology stuff you were giving us the other day. 
But these youngsters tell me they have picked their best 
men that way. And from what I have observed they 
have got the cream each time.” 

I drew him to the rail. Look here, commander,” I 
told him not too loud, “ perhaps I oughtn’t to say it, but 
I’ve fooled them in a way. Do you remember that play 
‘Jimmy Valentine’? How the man pared down his 
finger nails until all the nerves were bared. And then 
was able to open a safe by feeling the pawls engage, 
though their vibrations must come through three inches of 
solid Steel.” 

“ You don’t mean you’re doing anything like that? ” 

I stood around in front of him. “ Look at me,” I 
said. “ I’m not bragging; but doesn’t the strain of these 
days hang in my cheeks and eyes ? ” 

“ Yes, it does,” he answered, looking at me queerly. 
“ Well,” I went on, “ that’s why these kids pick their 
men right. Their nerves are getting worn to the quick. 
Every one of them is a Jimmy Valentine ; I make ’em so. 
And those psychological tests are only the turning of the 
locks under their fingers. So sensitive have their judg- 


143 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

merits 'become that the faintest click in a man’s character 
is a sentient throb. It’s a tiny vibration they translate 
as comparative aptitude for rammer, or plug, or just plain 
bull-neck brainless heaving.” 

The memory of it all is pretty much of a blur. At 
sea we kept pointers on duty through the day. Loading 
machines were built for the broadside divisions out of 
old breech plugs. Drill shell and bean bags were used. 
Turret crews were also exercised at least twice daily at 
the guns, though wear and tear on motors and other ma- 
terial prevented too much of it. 

My record shows that we had landing force infantry 
drills every other week. There was danger of the men 
growing stale. Our movies came through the fleet ex- 
change and helped on Saturday and Sunday nights when 
there didn’t happen to be liberty. 

Migg turned out to be my right hand man. “ Why not 
expand the league idea? ” he asked me one morning. He 
referred to our habit of keeping comparative loading 
times posted so that each crew would know how it stood 
with the rest of the ship. 

He brought his turret log. ‘‘ See here, sir. I’ve 
bunched all those men going in for plugmen. For a 
month almost I have listed their time, form and general 
excellence in slamming the plug and screwing home after 
144 


THE INTERCOLLEGIATE GAMES 




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A-. 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


loading. And, by gurry ! they seem to have humped up 
just for the fun of skinning one another.” 

So we took that motley host and organized loading 
sub-leagues, classing groups according to their part of 
the loading exercise. Men would train for a station as if 
billed to run a championship quarter mile in the inter- 
collegiate games. 

“You’re not forgetting torpedoes, are you?” the 
skipper asked me one Saturday down below. “ This room 
looks pretty clean for real work.” 

It was good to see the grins come out on the “ torps 
gang ” faces. 

“ Captain,” said, I, “ if you’re going to judge work 
by dirt on this ship you’ll find she’s the laziest craft 
afloat. But if you can find any corner of her torpedo 
rooms, turrets, gun compartments, or plotting stations, 
which looks idle Monday morning I’ll resign.” 

He winked at the commander. “ Nice respectful way 
to talk to me, isn’t it ? ” He had that knack of making 
us all feel close to him. No wonder she was a happy ship. 

He had a habit of nodding while he was in the con- 
ning tower. “ Pretty work, Mr. Gunnery Officer,” he’d 
explain, when we were making practice runs the week be- 
fore firing. “ Gad, but it’s consummation of a man’s life 

145 


10 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


hopes to stand here and have you swing those turrets out 
together; have them load and fire in unison.” 

And I’d smile back with a neat ‘‘ aye, aye, sir,” all 
the time trying to give number four turret the devil for i 
not reporting ready. Nearly crazy I was sometimes with |1 
that tangle of communications leading from all over i 
the ship. “ Never mind me,” the old man would say, I 
you have five hundred people to talk to in five hundred k 
different places, and I have only five.” 

But the worry of it told. I got so I couldn’t sleep ; 
of nights. What with reports, and letters, and checking . 
the work of a dozen assistants, the days were never long ; 
enough. 

“You look tired,” the commander was saying one 
morning. At that very moment six messengers were !; 
waiting on me. But before I could take any of the papers • 
or information they carried Migg stepped up. By his i 
face I knew something had happened. 

“ Halbert’s lost his hand,” he said. ( 

Halbert was Migg’s turret captain. “ How? ” I asked, [ 
feeling the least bit sick over it. Not that I hadn’t seen 
accidents before, but the suddenness of this and what it i 
meant to us just before practice hit pretty hard. ] 

“ Yes,” Migg went on, a little out of breath, “ it was | 
cut clean off just above the wrist. Got it caught under ^ 


146 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


the loading table. He fainted, poor devil, before he felt 
very much.’’ 

But accidents of this sort were rare. The American 
blue jacket is a level-headed son-of-a-gun, with plenty of 
guts, and he doesn’t hesitate to step in when another 
fellow has gone down. 

At last we felt ready. The day before we went on the 
range the skipper called us up. Just a word,” he said, 
“ before the battle. The gunnery officer has done every- 
thing humanly possible to get the ship whipped into shape. 
Guns and gear are perfection. I’m an old gunnery officer 
myself, and I know. The crew are a machine-like team. 
You officers have never let up in your loyal support. Re- 
ports alone on this work will make a couple of volumes, 
but a 'bookshelf couldn’t hold a detailed account of what 
your multitudinous efforts have accomplished.” 

He paused and looked at me. “ To-morrow we’ll 
stand alone in that little coop of a conning tower. By 
the thinnest of strings will you hold -the unseen forces of 
your turrets. How strong those strings are will deter- 
mine our score.” He jumped to his feet. 

Fiddlesticks ! ” he bawled and banged his fist on the 
table. “Who am I to lecture a lot of experts? Clear 
out of here, all of you. And if you don’t smear the eyes 


147 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


out of that target I’ll put the whole wardroom under 
back till next Christmas I ” 

Which was just what we wanted — a good sound boot 
behind and the laugh of our leader in our ears. 

We didn’t disappoint him, either. We ran through 
without a single casualty. Migg’s clever scheme beat the 
timing game. Our average turned out to be seven sec- 
onds better than the navy best so far. When we finished 
the target looked like Carrie Nation’s hat after a Kansas 
raid. 

Of course, we had a blistering long wait until fleet 
scores were published. There was talk of penalizing us 
for introducing new features into turret runs. 

But we fought it out. And in the end our percentage 
led head and shoulders over the next ship. Best of all, 
our ideas were permanently adopted. “ Everybody’s 
going to win next year,” Migg said to me. 

'' Oh, piffle,” I laughed back, craning my neck at that 
fine big red pennant with the black centre which we had 
been permitted to fly for the ensuing year, for having 
stood first in gunnery for the whole navy. Don’t you 
know, Mr. Migg, that all is fair in love, and war, and 
gunnery — so long as you obey the rules and beat the rest 
of the bunch ? ” 


148 


A GUNNERY OFFICER 


“ I guess you’re right, sir.” Then the old absorbed 
look came back to his face and he took a pamphlet from 
his pocket. “ I just wanted to ask you, sir, how about 
these broadside runs on the next practice.” 

It was a blow between the eyes. “ Next practice ! ” 
I groaned. “ Oh, have a heart, I know its only two 
months off. But let’s pretend for just one day that our 
life’s work is done and we’ve triumphed.” Which we had. 

So we hit the beach and had some golf. But I don’t 
remember how we came out. 

We’d talked too much gunnery. 


VII 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 

The fleet had had no sensation for days. Dull unre- 
mitting grind of war routine had robbed even target prac- 
tice of its thrills. Brains and hearts were numb from 
overwork. Elasticity of youth as well as brisk humor of 
age had succumbed to the slow torture of a grim and 
joyless preparation for battle. And worst of all, no man 
could be certain that there was ever going to be any battle. 

“ Just like the poor hams to go and quit after raising 
all this rumpus, and not give us a crack at them! ” was 
the average sentiment in the battleship steerages. Blood- 
thirsty young rascals I 

Then like a meteor came Migg’s mutiny. Lieutenant 
John Migg of the U. S. S. Alaska had failed grotesquely 
to uphold 'the mastery of his rank over those under him. 

Mutiny, that nightmare of the sea! Revolt of fettered 
passion against lawful authority and reason. Riot ashore 
is not to be compared. There we see the nucleus of wrath 
and indignation. The human vortex whirls and staggers. 
Cries and blows echo from vault-like streets. But beyond 
is always space. Beyond these streets are more streets. 


150 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


Beyond them are fields. And beyond the fields are free- 
dom land justice of other lands and peoples. 

Aboard ship there is no escape. The only freedom is 
dearth. Flames of violence may leap 'to the shrouds and 
trucks. Men may cry mercy only for safety of their 
lives. Blows may sicken the assassin who deals them. 
But there can be naught else. Either the plot fails and 
the yardarm dangles its dead, or the pirates clear scupper 
chocks of the thickening blood of their victims. 

Something of this was in Migg’s mind as he sat in 
the stuffy little office way down behind the main armor 
belt. Not in words, though, for he was thinking of 
something else. Why had he failed? Why were the 
men so unreasonable? Why 

A knock thudded above the steady whirr of the elec- 
tric fan. Come in,’’ Migg answered wearily. 

The door opened slowly as if the hand behind it 
feared a trap. Filling its frame from edge to edge was 
the huge bulk of a sweating chief carpenter. Gripped in 
his hand was a heavy oak tiller. Behind him stood a 
tense group of shipfitters and carpenters. Some were 
armed with hammers. Others carried lead mauls. One 
leaned stiffly on a crowbar. All wore mutinous expres- 
sions and appeared ready to strike at the first sign from 
their leader. 


151 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Migg’s usual confidence and poise seemed to have 
deserted him. Well,” he said heavily and without rising 
from his seat. 

' The carpenter opened his mouth twice before he spoke. 
Then, It ain’t to be done! ” he blurted fiercely. These 
here men are the best we’ve got for the job. But with- 
out material they won’t tackle it.” 

The last sentence was like an electric shock to Migg. 
He leaped to his feet. He slammed his clenched fist to 
the green steel desk. Inkpots and baskets tumbled to the 
red deck. His roar was that of a desperate animal rather 
than the command of an officer of the United States 
Navy. 

‘‘ Get to hell out of here you — you double-fisted 
thieves. Want me to rob the country we’re supposed to 
be fighting for, do you? Well, I’ll see you all hanged for 
mutiny first! ” 

He slammed the door, sank back in the stiff metal 
chair, and buried his face in his arm. 

In one week Migg had fallen from the pinnacle of 
fame to the depth of desperate failure. He was one of 
those quietly ambitious young officers who in their twenties 
can curb the dare-deviltry of youth into instant and ac- 
curate judgment. On deck and bridge he had shown un- 


162 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


usual ability. As senior watdi officer his command not 
only of men but of juniors directly under him had 
marked him as <the true type of naval officer. 

With these traits in mind the executive officer had 
sent for him. Mr. Migg, I’m going to relieve you 
from watch for a few days. Lieutenant-Commander 
Craig is going on leave and you will take over his duties 
for the time.” 

Aye, aye, sir. But I’ve never had any experience 
as first lieutenant and can’t promise much.” 

Don’t worry, Migg. You’re a good officer. By four 
years of varied duty throughout the ship, even in the 
engine-room, you have acquainted yourself with her gen- 
eral structure and equipment. Matters of upkeep will 
follow easily.” 

First lieutenant of a man-of-war I Migg could scarcely 
believe his ears. 

Let it be known that the battleship’s captain has as 
his immediate assistant the executive officer. Under him 
are heads of the various departments. Similarly the 
president of a great corporation has his active vice-presi- 
dent, who in turn works through his leaders of the busi- 
ness divisions. The chief engineer and gunnery officer 
are consigned to very definite limits. They thank God 


153 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

for it. But where and when the first lieutenant gets off, 
nobody knows. 

The ‘‘ Navy Regulation Book defines his status as 
senior to all the watch and division officers and junior 
to heads of the departments. Which is as much as say- 
ing that he is between the devil and the deep blue, with 
double odds on the devil ! 

He is the property man. Chief bottle washer and 
captain of the hold are his sub-titles. And ‘‘ damn 
loafer!'” is his order of merit if he slacks up for long 
enough to light his crusted pipe. 

He is responsible for the good order, cleanliness, effi- 
ciency, trim and neat appearance of the ship as a whole, 
and of all parts thereof. His special anxieties centre in 
compartments and bottoms, doors and valves leading into 
them; of casings, ventilators, bulkheads, decks, pipes, 
tubes, and a few million other trifles. Galleys and quarters 
of the crew come under his jurisdiction. And if by any 
chance there are chicken coops, cow-sheds, incubators, or 
peanut stands scattered here and there through the 
fighter’s innards no one is more to blame for their tidi- 
ness and productivity than the first lieutenant. 

‘‘ It’ll all come to you,” said Mr. Craig, as he skimmed 
through his files and baskets in the little office — so soon 
to be the scene of Migg’s disgrace. 


154 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


'' But/’ objected Migg, '' I am to spend real money. 
How can I judge whether a deck ought to be painted, or 
the bake-shop fitted with a new dough-mixer ?i 

The older officer laughed reassuringly. “It is diffi- 
cult sometimes to decide just how far to demand per- 
fection, and when to let things slide for the time. But 
mostly it comes to a question of how much you have on 
the books.” 

“ You mean this department has a regular allowance? ” 

“ Yes, just like any of the others. We have five 
thousand dollars.” 

Migg reflected. He took pencil and a bit of paper 
from his pocket and wrote down $5000. It looked huge. 
“ Gosh ! ” he ejaculated (Migg had once been able to sign 
a check for $218 out of his savings account). “ Looks 
as if you might buy a couple of extra turrets for her 
with all that.” 

“ Don’t worry,” said Mr. Craig, “ and while you’ve 
got your pencil out just stick down that more than forty- 
eight hundred has gone already.” 

There came at this moment a prodigious thumping on 
the door. “Enter, slave!” commanded the first lieu- 
tenant. The lacquered door popped open. A little grimy 
yeoman scrambled in. In one hand he held a sheaf of 
papers; the other clutched an enormous ledger, bony 


155 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


fingers marking three places in it A green eyeshade hung 
cock-billed over his smudged forehead. One ear larger 
than the other, wide like a hound’s, made a crotch for a 
fat blue pencil. 

“What is it, Ericsson?/” asked Craig, looking as if 
he sincerely wished he had consummated his escape be- 
fore the arrival of this spirited henchman. 

“ It’s this, sir,” piped the ink slinger, making vain and 
mussy efforts to find a place in the ledger by turning its 
pages with streaked knuckles of the hand holding the wad 
of papers. “ The gunnery officer says he won’t let us 
have them barbettes clear for chipping before morning, 
and McSwasey allows as how the officer-of-the-deck 
stowed all our paint drums on the superstructure, saying 
we was littering his clean gangways, and that last letter 
we had from the bureau promises red lead’ll be up three 
cents a pound unless we get in our requisition before the 
first of the month, and that with target practice coming 
before docking it ain’t no use tryin’ 

Craig threw up his hands, and turning to Migg with 
a helpless look, cried : “ He’s crazy, stark raving rackety 
crazy! I don’t know what he means. He don’t know 
what he means. Nobody ever knows what he means. 
Yet he’s the personification, the epitomized embodiment 
of what it is to be a first lieutenant in the fleet. Delirious 


156 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


cyclonesi and hysterical tempests are mild tribes alongside 
this little group of nerve-racked naval officers responsi- 
ble for the house-cleaning and upkeep of our first line 
ships/’ 

Migg laughed sympathetically. But if you don’t 
get him what on earth am I to do ? 

‘'Pacify him!” Then, jumping to his feet, Craig 
bared the maneuvering watch strapped to his thick wrist. 
“ Holy hawse-pipes I Haven’t packed. Haven’t signed 
mail. And got to catch that three o’clock boat! Pacify 

him, Migg And, over his shoulder as he dashed 

out into the passage, “ or wring his skinny neck ! ” Craig 
shouted. 

Migg was left alone. Not alone, either. For there 
still fidgeted the excited yeoman, fizzing like a firecracker 
with a short fuse. And Migg’s shoulders were burdened 
with a task which seemed heavier and more mysterious 
every moment that passed. 

Migg’s pleas of utter ignorance finally drove the pester- 
ing yeoman away. He then turned to the notes he had 
taken from the conversation with Craig. None proved 
intelligible save the mark “ $5000,” which, he recollected, 
was the first lieutenant’s departmental allowance. Under- 
neath stood the “ $4800.” 


157 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


‘‘ Seems queer,” Migg muttered. He’s spent that 
much already and six months to go. He can’t possibly 
get to the end of the year on two hundred dollars.” 

An orderly interrupted. Captain wishes to see Mr. 
Migg, sir,” he reported. 

Two minutes in the cabin brought Migg face to face 
with reality. “ You’re acting first lieutenant,” said the 
skipper, so you’re in charge at coaling ship. The col- 
lier Neptune comes alongside at six to-night. Have every- 
thing rigged and coaling gear ready.” 

Aye, aye, sir.” 

Migg went direct to the officer of the deck. ‘‘ Clear 
side for the collier,” he told him. ‘‘ She’ll be here at 
six. And if you’ll give me a working party of ten men 
I’ll get the coaling bags and shovels properly distributed 
by the time your booms are ready.” 

Coaling ship is the one barbarous custom left in the 
navy. All else is delightfully automatic. A lever over 
and huge projectile leaps to the gun’s breech. A button 
down and servile rammer thrusts it powerfully home. 
Single tiny twist of controller arm and rudder measured 
in tons swings in ponderous obedience to the helmsman’s 
will. 

But to feed the hungry bunkers human pigmies, the 
same who have mastered and boastetl all of nature’s forces. 


158 


COALING SHIP IS THE ONE BARBAROUS CUSTOM LEFT IN THE NAVY. . . . COAL IS DUMPED ON DECK 
SHOVELLED INTO WHEELBARROWS, AND CARRIED TO THE BUNKER HOLES 



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4 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


must crawl down into the dark 'belly of a collier and 
shovel. Must scratch with silly tools the sliding heap of 
coal and send it by thimblefuls to the deck above. 

The first lieutenant bosses the job. After the ex- 
ecutive officer has seen the collier secured alongside, some 
Craig or Migg must superintend rigging out the heavy 
cargo booms. Great blocks at their ends guide strong 
lines to the collier’s hold. At the end of each line is a 
hook. Canvas bags holding one-third of a ton each can 
thus be hoisted. Coal is dumped on deck, shovelled into 
wheelbarrows and carried to bunker holes. Latest mod- 
ern colliers are fitted with steam scoops or buckets. Bags 
are then unnecessary but barrows must still distribute 
coal to the score of tubes leading below. 

At 4.30 next morning Migg was on deck. “ How 
about those bags ? ” he inquired of the boatswain. 

“ All divisions ready, sir, except the fourth,” replied 
the warrant officer a bit thickly, for the hour was early 
and cold. “ They need several more bags, at least three 
need mending, and most of their shovels are split.” 

Like a flicker of pain Migg’s memory carried back to 
the $200 balance and again he vowed allegiance to his 
trust. A warship’s supply officer carries whole storerooms 
full of tools, stationery, rope, paint, canvas, leather, soap, 
wire, and the thousand other items of a great sea-fighter’s 
159 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


needs. Gunnery or engineer or any other department 
draws from this general store and is charged for at prices 
set by the Navy Department. Limited allowances, such 
as that which was worrying Migg, confine each branch to 
very creditable economy. 

“ Let’s see,” Migg ruminated, ‘‘ that means at least 
twenty dollars for bags ; say ten dollars for repair cord- 
age and canvas; and no telling how much for shovels.” 
He shook his head. “ Sorry, Bosun, but they’ll have to 
make out with what they’ve got.” 

‘‘ Aye, aye, sir,” was the curt military acknowledg- 
ment. 

Ten minutes bugles sounded commence firing ” as 
a signal to begin coaling. Winches creaked and chattered. 
“ Watch yerself ! ” and “ Bag-ho! ” rang along the deck 
as shadowy clusters of bags swung out of the collier’s 
mine-like pit and crunched heavily on deck. Far below 
one could make out toiling shovellers writhing like gray 
maggots under the dust-blurred glare of a dozen electric 
lamps. 

Things brightened at sunrise, though the red dawn 
only emphasized the dirty confusion of men and decks. 
Hourly announcement of the number of tons each divi- 
sion had put aboard engendered a raw spirit of compe- 


160 


I 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 

tition. Cheers rose from the victors, while an antiphonal 
chorus of encouragement flooded from the officers and 
petty officers in charge of less efficient squads. 

At noon the fourth division had 'been the low score 
crowd for three consecutive hours. Lieutenant Smith, 
the division officer, seemed utterly imable to jerk his men 
up to their accustomed mark. Finally he sought Migg. 

“ I can't understand what it is, but something's wrong 
down there," he said. 

Before *Migg could answer there was an altercation 
near the rail. Sharp words were followed by a struggle 
between two men. One struck out and missed. Smith 
rushed up. 

“ What's all this ? " he demanded. 

“ Nothin', sir," growled the boatswain's mate. Then, 
I may as well tell you this," he added ; this division 
thinks the first lieutenant is up against them, sore on 'em 
for some reason, and is getting even not lettin' us win 
to-day." 

The bewildered Smith tupied to Migg but found no 
consolation in the anger and perplexity depicted in his 
face. 

“ It's ther^> bags and shovels, sir," continued the boat- 
swain's mate, resolved to have it out. 

11 


161 


CLEAR THE DECKS 


Then Migg saw light. He realized that his consci- 
entious parsimony was 'being interpreted as a personal 
grudge against this particular division. He had deter- 
mined to make his $200 balance spread over the long lean 
months tO' come. He had begun by cutting corners on 
spare gear, and if possible, forcing divisions tO' do their 
own repairing with what material was at hand. But the j 
chief and immediate result of his efforts was only to 
breed dissension and obstruct the coaling. Explanation 
meant little to the division O'fficer. To the men it was no 
more than highbro'W camouflage. Their perspective in- 
cluded no such thing as dollars and cents in the daily , 
routine of their vigorous lives. Migg surrendered. New 
bags, cordage, and shovels were issued to the offended 
aggregation. j 

Field day followed coaling. All hands turned to on 
decks and masts and bulkheads. From top to bottom the i 
ship was scrubbed and lathered and sanded until she 1 
shone. j 

Here again was competition, not only in speed but in j 
whiteness and shininess of results. And here again one ) 



strife. A delegation called upon the divisional officer. 
They were exceedingly polite and submissive, and en- 
tirely willing to proceed. Said the spokesman : 

162 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


Mister Striper, there ain’t enough scrub brushes to 
go around. An’ you yerself have seen the extry-omery 
condition of our squilgees.” 

But, O’Brien,” the lieutenant parried, can’t you 
make out for to-day? You saw a copy of the first lieu- 
tenant’s notice that he was running short of money in his 
department. It means more stuff later on when we really 
need it if we don’t run him into debt now.” 

“ All right, sir. But I can’t promise to have them 
skids lookin’ like anything for the captain’s inspection 
to-morrow.” 

The little party turned away. But the squareness of 
their backs was proof of the sincerity of the stand they 
had taken. So Striper went to Migg. And Migg went 
to his books. But argument was futile. Again he sur- 
rendered. To the tune of $37.98 he issued new cleaning 
gear and salt-water soap to the first division. 

The discouragement of it drove him on deck. As he 
paced the white teak boulevard which spread from rail to 
rail and nearly a hundred years and aft he pictured what 
independent means would do for a first lieutenant. Ad- 
miral Sir Percy Scott, he recalled, had gained his meteoric 
rise in the British Navy through the reputation of his 
spotless ships. And it was well known that their gleam- 
163 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


ing sides and upperworks reflected the sun of his own 
personal fortune. 

But thaf s wrong/’ Migg said out loud. Our ships 
are splendid. And part of their splendor is in their even 
beauty. All gray — all clean — all as near perfection of 
quality and design as our present knowledge of marine 
construction can make them.” 

He glanced along the anchored column and nodded. 
His practised eye marked the beautiful homogeneity of 
shade and outline which alone lent a substantial some- 
thing to the strong unity of the fleet. 

But for* all his philosophical reassurance Migg’s trials 
had barely begun. Fueled and provisioned the first squad- 
ron put out nex!t day for a spell of special tactics. As 
luck would have it the weather did a double back flip- 
flop, divine summer calm to a near-typhoon. 

Battleships are too heavy and concentrate to roll 
sharply. They swing deep and with stately sureness. In 
a way this is good. Gun-platforms are more steady and 
gun-pointing is kept within the realms of mechanical 
possibility. 

But mountainous seas are whimsical, capricious, head- 
long and impulsive. And they are entirely careless with 
the titanic strength of their youth. When the great ship 
heels and wallows they do not wait for her to right. 

164 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


They run crashing and combing over her as if delighted 
to catch her unawares. 

Topside boats are lashed to cradles. They are power- 
fully built and strongly secured. The same is true of 
ventilators, and hatch combings and sea-chests. Patient 
ingenuity of years has done wonders to make the war- 
ship’s deck proof against the sea’s periodic offensives. 
And yet — well, judge from the following, Migg dictating: 

Take this, Ericsson. Bow of steam launch smashed 
two feet below stem. First motor sailer, side planking 
stove in. Gig requires new beading on starboard side. 
After ventilating cowls near mast carried away. Hatch 
crushed below galley entrance. Repairs emergency. 
Damage caused by seas breaking over upper deck.” 

Of course, Migg consulted the executive officer. ‘‘ I 
don’t care a continental about your d — d allowance,” ex- 
claimed the senior in some heat. “ The captain has gone 
over all this wreckage. He realizes that it is not our 
fault. Neither can we blame the constructors entirely. 
Each new type of ship brings up a thousand unsuspected 
problems of rig and equipment. The fact remains that 
this heavy weather has messed us up considerably and 
it’s your job to see things put shipshape again.” 

Migg detailed his carpenters and ship fitters to the 
several job orders required. His orders were brief 


165 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


enough. Estimate first/’ he told them; “ bring itemized 
lists of material and tools required to me ; then draw the 
stuff and go to it” 

But in nearly every case the expense ran beyond his 
rough guess. Two boats had been strained deep in their 
timbers, and in a number of instances metal parts of the 
steel work on deck required casting work from the ship’s 
foundry. Patterns and moulds brought the total up to 
over a hundred dollars. 

Migg was glancing over some of the finished work 
when two of ^the junior officers stepped up. “ Mister 
Migg, we’re going to race in the division finals next week. 
Couldn’t you let us have an extra set of mainsails for 
the whale boats ? And a new rudder would mean a good 
deal.” 

“ No,” said Migg shortly, and turned away leaving 
the surprised youngsters to wonder what had got into 
their ordinarily chipper shipmate. 

On his desk Migg found another barb for his soul so 
torn already. It was a short memo from the captain re- 
minding him that the admiral would be over next within 
a few days. All paint work must be in shape. 

Now it happened that on the Alaska there was about 
500,000 square feet of horizontal surfaces to be kept 
cleaned and painted. That much again was spread out 
166 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


vertically over bulkheads, sides, and other structural walls. 
It takes about three gallons of white paint to cover looo 
square feet and about two gallons of war color. Shellac 
used on linoleum will spread about twice as far as white 
paint. 

But poor Migg, in the agony of his forced extrava- 
gance, had to figure on chipping metal surfaces and paint- 
ing only with a coat of red lead to stop erosion, and that 
to be followed by two or three coats of white paint or war 
color. One small compartment which had been flooded 
from a leaky gun-port would set him back nearly $50. 
And after that last spree at sea there was left him less 
than $30 available. What could he do? 

He looked up all the authorities on paint mixing and 
preparation of surfaces to see if there was any way of 
beating the game. But before he could accomplish his 
design came a wild demand for his presence at the steam 
laundry. 

“ Pipe’s busted, sir,” gasped the breathless messenger, 
‘‘ an’ Wilkins says for me to get the first lieutenant an’ 
tell him the plant’s goin’ to be spoiled an’ the officers 
won’t have no laundry this week less it’s fixed at once.” 

Migg strode through the gun deck passages with mur- 
der in his heart. Kid’s got an awful grouch to-day, 


167 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


said the sailmaker as Migg shouldered by. ’Tain’t like 
him to be fustered up.” 

But Migg had a right to be fustered ” when he 
peered through the steam filled laundry and realized that 
there was as nasty a job of repair work as he would 
ever see outside of battle. In fact, this smoky confusion ! 
reminded him that as first lieutenant he would be in i 
charge of the repair party which must rush about the 
ship and patch her here and there, perhaps keeping her 
afloat by barest makeshifts. 

So he set his teeth. But he didn’t forget the dollars ' 
he didn’t have. Mr. Craig was due back this night and i 
if there was to be rash expenditures he must make them. | 
Migg’s lips were taut. Yes, my men will sew you i 
up again,” he said. But not one ounce or inch of new ^ 
material shall they have.” j 

He returned to his office and gave out directions to ! 
the chief carpenter. Very shortly he reiterated the dire 
straits in which the first lieutenant’s department had been. [ 
found. And he spent at least thirty seconds ejecting a ' 
delegate from the boat gang who demanded more lumber, i 
Then he sat and waited. But he knew by various ^ 
signs that he couldn’t hold out. He was too young in the ^ 
service to realize that artificer branches, such as carpenters ' 
168 I 


FIRST LIEUTENANT 


and shipfitters are in a way more familiar with their 
superiors. 

So when there suddenly appeared outside his office 
the previously described gathering of rebellious blue- 
jackets Migg saw disgrace at least, if not bloodshed and 
violence. 

Wish they would start something,” he exclaimed 
clenching his fist when they had left. It would be 
better than this horrible tightwad part I have to play now. 
There’s something wrong some places ” 

What’s wrong?'” 

The door had opened again, this time gently. There 
stood Craig. 

Thank God! ” Migg cried and grabbed the surprised 
officer by both arms. The jig’s up. Everything’s gone to 
pot. I ” 

Here, Old Man,” Craig protested, “ take it easy. 
Tell me about this explosion or whatever it is that’s both- 
ering you.” 

“ Just this,” Migg almost groaned. You left me 
with two hundred dollars on the books. Five thousand 
you said was the allowance, and forty-eight hundred 
already spent.” 

Correct so far, Old Top. Go on.” 


169 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Well, no sooner had you got away than expenses 
began to pile up. We coaled and painted. A storm 
smashed the boats. The devil blew up the laundry. The 
band wants new music. The chief says he’s got to have a 
bulkhead put across his office. The hull board requests 
paint and cement for ten of the inner bottoms. I’ve 
stood out against it all. But just before you came those 
pirate carpenters and shipfitters of yours came here and 
had the nerve to tell me they couldn’t go on without about 
five hundred dollars worth of material and gear.” 

Craig laughed. He didn’t chuckle, or haw haw, or 
bray. He went off into a kind of uncontrolled hysterics 
that almost frightened Migg. 

“ Young fellow,” he finally choked out, you’re a 
brick! It’s my fault for dashing off in such a hurry and 
not telling. Five thousand is not our yearly allowance. 
It’s qvuwterly. The day I left you had two hundred dol- 
lars on the books. That was June twenty-eight. July 
first a fresh five thousand was checked up to your credit 1 ” 
The fleet is still laughing. 


VIII 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 

There is a fate more terrible than death. There is a 
loss more horrible than that of the sightless. There broods 
a grief over certain families that no other human mis- 
fortune can incite — 'insanity. 

When a man's mind goes it is God’s blessing that he 
goes, too. But this is not always the case. Occasionally 
character and will are so powerful that but a portion of 
the victim’s mentality is lost. Then heaven have mercy 
on the wretch! To his tortured imagination the world 
seems still and staring — staring at his nakedness. And 
only he can fully grasp the hideous deformity exposed. 

The navy knows little of all this. Her sons are chosen 
for the wire-like strength of their psychic fibre. Yet the 
strongest wire will break. Witness the comrades of Cap- 
tain Scott and of Doctor Mawson in the tragedies of their 
recent antarctic expeditions. Overwork, overworry, and 
fatigue beyond human endurance stretched the gleaming 
thread of sanity till it snapped. In the fleet, in the strain- 
ing chaos of wartime work, some wires are very taut. 

The trouble is one can never tell just how taut his 


171 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


own wire is. That was Migg’s case. He stood leaning 
against the after lifeline gazing fixedly into the black 
water which lisped along the battleship’s armor belt ten 
feet below. Behind him loomed her ugly masts and tur- 
rets. The darkness of night had no horizon. 

“ I’m going bugs sure as shootin’,” he muttered. Steal- 
ing over him came an irresistible desire to vault the low 
rail which separated him from the licking inkiness below. 

“Why not? Just a ” A heavy grip on his arm 

startled the morbid, thought into normal apprehension. 

“ Hello, Squiggy. What’s up, brooding like this in 
the night? ” 

It was the fat paymaster. Migg had found him a 
good confessor in times of trouble. No irking profes- 
sional jealousies marred his attitude towards the young 
watch officer’s blue moments, and his knowledge of the 
world did much to make unvicious their wild liberties 
ashore. 

“ Nothing, Pay, old man. No — well, it is some- 
thing, too.” Then quickly, “ Say, is it true that when 
you go off your nut the first symptom is thinking other 
people are crazy ? ” 

The fat paymaster chuckled. Migg’s hand gripped 
over the lifeline caught the quiver of mirth as his ship- 
mate leaned back and laughed. “ Maybe so. But don’t 




I 


; 


\ 


172 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


' take me as a sample. Tve been sort of queer since that 
night Stilling held fours over my flush.” 

“ Listen,” said Migg, overcoming a desire to whisper 
and look over his shoulder, take your pick : it’s either 
me or the chief. Either he’s let his work get the better 
of him and is now on the verge of madness, or else I 
myself am seeing and hearing things that don’t exist. 
For the safety of the ship one of us ought to have a 
medical survey ! ” 

This time the paymaster didn’t laugh. He knew Migg. 
The words might well have been one of that youngster’s 
frequent hoaxes. The tone of his voice, however, was 
unmistakable. 

'All right, Squiggum,” said the paymaster gruffly, so 
as not to appear too consoling, “ but before you’re con- 
signed to the padded cell for good let’s go down and roll 
the wily bones for a bottle of that pacified rum we’ve 
learned to drink, and talk the matter over.” 

The grape- juice was brought by a small brown 
Filipino. Solemnly the dungaree-clad lieutenant spun 
the white dice into a combination that forced his friend 
to sign the chit. Pipes were lit. A lone fan in the comer 
of the wardroom swept the smoke swirls up through a 
gaping ventilator. The paymaster spoke first. “ Begin 
at the beginning,” he said. 


173 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Migg answered, half to himself and without looking 
up. “ Steelwick has been on my side for years. Taught 
me steam, you know, at the navy school. I think he’d 
been in the destroyers the cruise before. Got the name 
for being a pinch hitter.” 

‘‘ Didn’t know he played ball,” put in the Pay. 

He didn’t, you poor wheeze. What I mean is that 
he gained the reputation of being able to patch up his 
engines. Wasn’t always whining around Washington 
asking to be given overhaul periods in the navy yards. 
That’s the way most of our best chief engineers start. 
They get on some old bucket which is known to be a crab 
and prove that she’s still good for contract speed. They 
bandage all the pipes up with red lead and canvas, wire 
up the valves, and make the wildest sort of surgical opera- 
tions on their cranks and cylinders. He got away with 
it for over a year. 

‘‘ Then the bureau laid hold of his record. He was 
selected for the post-graduate course at Columbia. At 
government expense he was put through all the gaits and 
paces of marine engineering. By topping off with six 
months at the experimental station in Annapolis he came 
out one of the navy’s experts.” 

But what about deck duty ? ” asked the Pay to fill 
in Migg’s pause. 


174 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


Oh, he got enough of that. Two years in the fleet, 
and skipper of a submarine. You see, a fellow comes to 
engineering sooner or later. If he makes good at it and 
wants to specialize he’ll stick. Sometimes they do noth- 
ing else for ten years. Then rank forces them out and 
they have to command, or at least go as executive officer 
of a big ship. We have no commanders as chief engi- 
neers, though no doubt we shall some day.” 

Migg’s words rambled on without expression. His 
mind was on something deeper. “You say he was your 
instructor ? ” the paymaster asked, hoping to divert the 
conversation on to pleasanter topics. 

“ Yes, that’s where we first became friends. After I 
graduated he kept track of me. Wanted me to go with 
him on the old Maine. But I hated engineering. Too 
confined. Not enough fresh air. A man has got to love 
his engines with pretty near a passion if he’s going to 
put up with the imprisonment it means.” 

“ Then how in hades did you ever take it? ” 

“ I was coming to that. Every one of us has to have 
so much engineering duty on his record. Unless you’re 
planning to stick to it the best way is to get it over early. 
So when I received Steelwick’s letter last fall asking me 
to come with him as first assistant I jumped at the chance. 
Besides, he tipped me off that he had some inside dope 

175 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


about this old ferry boat and was going to win the engi- 
neering trophy. That would mean a letter for me — on 
my record, that is, from the secnav, commending my 
ability as a ‘ Steam Wench,’ and once for all settle my 
ability as an engineer. And Steelwick means what he 
says.” 

“ The chief’s a winner all right,” agreed the pay- 
master, ringing for another bottle of Squelch’s best. 

Migg was on his feet at the remark. He means to 
be — ^God ! how he means to be. But it’s getting the better 
of him!” 

“You mean you think he’s overworked? ” 

“ Pay, that man’s killing himself to win. Not him- 
self, either, but what’s worse. He is wrecking the brain 
the navy has bought and paid for. I give him another 
month of this business and he’ll he a gibbering idiot.” 

“ But how — ^what does he do ? ” 

“ I can’t describe any one thing. It’s everything. 
The dreamy way he talks. The way he runs around the 
engineroom looking at pipes and gears he has no need to 
look at. The way he figures and figures after the routine 
figuring is done. The way he gabbles to himself. He 
doesn’t sleep at nights. I see him up at midnight. He’s 
still up at five a.m.” 

The paymaster only nodded. He knew there was some 


176 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


mistake. The chief engineer was reputed to be one of 
the brainiest men in the service. Still — well, the strong- 
est wire will break, 

“ Look here, Migg,’^ he said at last. This is too 
serious a question to decide to-night. I tell you what 
ril do, though. Don’t say a word to anyone and I will 
join you in ferreting the trouble out. If the chief is 
going off a bit I’ll help you manage to have him quickly 
and quietly disposed of. You see, Old Top, we don’t 
want anything to get out that would hurt the ship.” 

Migg shook his head. “ You can try, but there’s no 
doubt in my mind, at any rate. Keep your eyes open at 
inspection to-morrow morning. You will quick enough 
find out what I mean. Good-night.” 

After a few minutes the paymaster rose and passed 
through the narrow steel passageway to the after quarters. 
He found Lieutenant-Commander Steelwick divesting 
himself of greasy blackened garments. He was wet 
through with sweat. 

“ Shiver me, chief, are ye still at it?” 

“ Hello, Tubbo, and what might you be doing out this 
time of night ? ” 

The paymaster saw his chance. I’m worried, chief,” 
he replied. “ And it’s about that kid of yours. Migg, 
I mean. He looks thin and pale.” 


12 


177 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Steelwick pulled his nose. “ Can you keep a secret ? ” ' 
he asked. The Pay inclined his head a fraction. 

I tell you because you’re nearest him, I think. If | 
Migg doesn’t take more time off his work he is going to . 
have a nervous breakdown. And you know what that 
means,” he added grimly. ; 

The paymaster’s jaw dropped. What was this mystery i 
of the engineroom? It began to look as if they were all 
bound for St. Elizabeth’s. What do you mean?” he 
said mechanically. 

‘'As you know,” the (chief began," I have the largest de- | 
partment on the ship. More men, more compartments, i 
more material. Besides the engines I have all the auxilia- \ 
ries, such as the ice-machine, distilling plant, and so on. The \ 
electrical outfit means supervision of two large dynamo ! 
rooms and a large force of electricians. I have a good- j 
sized foundry and a machine shop of which I am very I 
proud. Steering and anchor engines are my special pets. 
And there are a bunch of patent potato peelers and dough- 
mixers which I hope to improve on by my own inven- 
tions. I superintend a power plant big enough for a town 
of fifty thousand.” 

The paymaster only looked bewildered. " But what 
has that got to do with Migg ? ” 


178 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


“ Bide a wee, my good Tubbo. There are two things 
getting under the skin of that youngster. First is the 
engineering competition. Just as in gunnery, all the fleet 
contend for high scores based on coal economy, steaming 
efficiency, and general engineering performances during 
the year. Migg plays the game too hard. Which brings 
me to his second failing. His planning and scheming to 
beat the other ships of this particular squadron has led 
him to the immoral practice of not going ashore enough. 
If a man sticks around the job beyond a certain point he 
is bound to weaken. Our minds and bodies can stand 
only so much.’’ 

But what about yourself?” 

There, that’s another matter. Migg is a born deck 
officer. He loves outdoors. He loves action. He is 
devoted to the development of his men. I am the oppo- 
site. My sweating engines are live beings. I study their 
diet of coal as a doctor would that of his patient. My 
men are but cogs and gears in the vast mechanism of 
this man-of-war. And, take it from me, they’re the most 
unreliable parts. I’d choose the steady metallic elements 
any day, a steel pin or rod, to the capricious unmanage- 
aJbleness of human temperament.” 

The chief stopped to light a cigarette. In the flicker 
of the match his mood changed. His tall lean body lost 


179 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


its awkward slackness and took on the tense grace of a 
hound. He leaned over as he spoke. His tone was low 
and penetrating. 

“ Did Migg tell you what I am doing? ’’ he demanded 
like a counsel for the prosecution. His eyes were black 
points. 

“ No — ^yes,’’ the paymaster faltered. He said that 
he thought you’d win the trophy; that’s about all.” 

“ I will,” was the quiet answer. But he doesn’t 
know how. He doesn’t know what I’ve got up my 
sleeve. And the devil of it is, much as I trust him, I 
can’t take him into my confidence. Look here, you old 
lobster, come down to-morrow. I have to talk to some- 
one. And there’s no one else it does less harm to than 
to talk to you — save perhaps a steel-ribbed deck 
stanchion 1 ” 

The paymaster tried to smile with poor success. His 
“ good-night ” was anything but cheerful. That two such 
men as the chief and Migg could call each other crazy, 
that they could say and think the things they seemed to 
was beyond his comprehension. He 'began in a slow un- 
amazed way to think he himself was getting queer. 

The next morning being Saturday brought captain’s 
inspection. Next to the paymaster’s crowd of clerks and 
yeomen were lined the Black Gang,” as the engineers 
180 


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A CHIEF ENGINEER 


are called. Nearly four hundred husky, thickniecked 
sailormen who were not sailors, who went to war but 
didn’t fight — except among themselves. Their clean 
white uniforms were no different from those of the 
turret crews’ save for a red tape encircling the arm of 
each just below the shotdder. In front of the formation 
squatted the grotesque figure of a small black bear, one of 
those queer mascots of which engineering sailormen are 
particularly fond. 

“ ’Morning, Pay,” said the chief, very smart and 
military in his starched whites. “ Fine looking bunch, 
eh?” 

“ Sure is. Look, the Pennsy^s having quarters, too.” 
Across a half mile of blue water they could see the huge 
flagship creaming along at an easy fifteen knots, her decks 
glimmering with even lines of white-clad men. 

“ Say, chief, what’s the idea of her having only one 
stack ? ” The paymaster was bent on illuminating the 
problem over which he had lost sleep. If Stickwell was 
becoming unnerved his work must be the cause; and talk 
about it must eventually give him away. 

“ Pure hunches,” was his disparaging reply. Look 
down the column. There are the oil burners with one 
smoke-pipe each. The U tah and other dreadnaught types 
have two. Old girls like the Kearsarge and Kentucky also 


181 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


have two. The Alabama class have their’s athwartships. i 
Most have three fore and aft. But did you ever see such ' 
a conglomeration of design ? Each represents the ideas of j 
its period. High smoke pipes mean more draft. But they ^ 
also make larger targets for the enemy. Single smoke 
pipes save enough weight to permit them to be armored. ( 
In the Battle of Tsushima whole gun crews on the Rus- | 
sian ships were asphyxiated by gases on the main decks j 
when uptakes were pierced.’’ 

A messenger dashed up. ‘‘ The captain — says — sir,” j 
he panted, “ to tell the chief engineer that the flagship 
signals we are making too much smoke.” 

Steel wick grunted. ‘‘ All right,” he said calmly to j 
the excited seaman. And to the paymaster : There you i 
are. We scrimp and save to cut down on our coal. We [ 
take every measure known to the trade to put our ex- j 
penditure down to a minimum. Then come these idiotic [ 
maneuvers — at least from an engineering point of view — ' 

and spoil everything. They have probably signaled a | 
sudden turn or something of the sort which requires a | 
couple of knots above what we’re prepared for.” 

Turning to the rail Steel wick glared around the fleet, j 
See, there’s the Ohio making a regular volcano out of j 
herself. An enemy could spot her twenty miles on a day j 
like to-day. Come down with me and see what it’s like. | 
182 ! 


1 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 

Never mind your whites. I’ll stand responsible that they 
keep clean.” 

On the way the chief stopped in for a moment at the 
log-room of engineering office. There sat Migg in his 
undershirt. Piled around were blueprints, thick books 
of steaming tables, stacks of cards, and such a clutter 
of letters and files that his shoulders seemed squared 
against the flood. He glanced up. 

Good, morning,” he said crisply. “ Couldn’t be at 
quarters. We’re having our full power trials to-morrow 
and I have to get up this data.” Then in an undertone. 
Have you noticed anything? ” he asked. 

** Nothing yet. I’m going down with him now.” 

Outside the chief took the other’s arm. Did you 
see what the lad’s doing? He has hauled out all the dope 
we took on commissioning and acceptance trials. He is 
comparing them with fleet records for the past three 
years — all my gleanings from published reports. He has 
boiler and feed tests since Noah went to sea. He is 
chewing that mass into a cud. He’ll chew that cud for a 
week. And do you know why? ” 

The unenlightened paymaster shook his head. 

“ I’ll tell you why. Migg is determined to win the 
engineering trophy offered by the Navy Department. 
With magnificent perseverance he is extracting the mil- 
183 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


lion details of steaming efficiency from all that has been 
done before/’ The chief suddenly laughed a huge guffaw. 

And I’ll let you in on a little joke. Each engineer in the | 
fleet is doing the very same trick ! ” 

‘‘ But don’t you have to scare up this information? ” 

‘‘ No, I have Migg — ^that is, so long as he doesn’t ! 
kill himself. Then I have my little ideas — come, I’ll i 
show you.” I 

For 'the second time the paymaster saw that strange | 
look of crafty penetration in the chief’s eyes. And again I 
his doubts rose against the man who was reputed to be so | 
brilliant. But he followed obediently through the narrow ' 
alleyway, past of a pair of armored doors, and down a i 
polished ladder to the main engine room. It was his i 
first good look at a modern marine power plant. | 

Words failed him. There was that indescribable com- 
plexity of detail, that multitudinous orderliness of item, [ 
that labyrinthine perfection of mass which human per- 
ception fails to grasp. Only here and there he saw and 1 
understood. The throbbing pumps, the hiss of steam, j 
the glimmering lights, polished rails and parts, combined 
in an atmosphere of well-hidden busyness. “ It’s like | 
being in the belly of some huge animal while he’s digest- ; 
ing his dinner,” was the way he put it to the chief. , 
But that officer had disappeared. In a few minutes ' 

I 


184 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


he returned by suddenly dropping from a beam overhead. 
A moment later he was worming his way up through a 
tangle of pipes and struts. That he was not burned or 
mangled seemed a miracle. He was talking, too' — talk- 
ing to himself. The paymaster watched him closely. 
This was what Migg had noticed. The warrant machinist 
on duty also followed him, apparently with considerable 
interest. 

The great cranks spun around with a ceaseless pound- 
ing. Suddenly a bell jangled loudly. A light came on 
dull red, and someone swung heavily upon a lever. In an 
instant the chief was at his side. 

Two faster ! ” he shouted to the throttle-man clearly 
above the din of engines. '' Can’t you read the indi- 
cator? ” And turning to the paymaster said : We chiefs 
have to be oilers and firemen and machinists, maybe coal 
passers besides. The bridge rung up two revolutions per 
minute more speed. My man here gave him half a knot 
extra ! Wait a minute.” 

With which he disappeared again. Twenty seconds 
passed and he brought a tiny brass bolt which he ex- 
amined under the glare of a light. He gave orders, and 
eased off valves, and performed a number of other mean- 
ingless acts, all disconnected and vague to the perplexed 
paymaster. 


185 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Come out into the fireroom,” he jerked out. The 
Pay followed numbly. Wet streams coursed down his 
legs. 

A darker passage gave into a shadowy vaulted room. 
Opposite the door a gleam of light flashed momentarily. 
It was a signal for the chief again to burst into action. 

“ You imbecile I ” he roared. “ Slice it upwards — 

not ’’ He threw his white coat upon the grimy deck. 

Seizing a fifteen foot steel slice-bar from the half-naked 
fireman he thrust it with agile strength into the inferno 
which spit flames through the furnace door. ‘‘ There — 
ithat’s the way to slice! 

He stepped back. His quick shifting glance ran to 
the water glass above. ‘‘ Feed, Watson,” curtly to the 
water-tender; “don’t let it get too low. Hard on the 
baffles, you know.” 

The obese paymaster could stand it no longer. “ Say, 
chief,” he almost wailed, “ I got to get out of this.” And 
he got. In a kind of puffing stupor he reached the deck 
and drank in great breaths of salt air. “ Crazy! ” he 
groaned, “ the wonder is they live to tell the tale ! ” And 
he set his course for the ship’s showers. 

Two days later the paymaster had recovered. Once 
more he rested in the cool wardroom over a glass of iced 
fruit juice. By the open gun port raced a white-crested 


186 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


series of blue seas. The great ship trembled. He realized 
the high-power runs were on. 

The door opened. For a moment the Pay thought a 
coal heave had come on some message. The black- faced, 
filthy, smoke-grimed figure could not possibly be that of 
an officer. 

It was Migg. He drew a chair from the table and 
covered it carefully with newspaper. He sunk into it 
like a limp sack. Within a minute he was followed by 
the chief engineer who was equally dirty and exhausted. 
At least so it seemed at first from his apathetic glance at 
the spotless paymaster. Then his eyes twinkled. 

“ Pay, old Flummix,” he said, “ Fll roll you for a 
drink.’’ 

The paymaster pondered for a space. Then said he : 
“ Look here, you pair of chimney sweeps. I’ll buy you 
each a drink, two drinks, if you’ll explain to me which 
of you is ” 

But before he could finish Migg had started up. 
‘‘ Please don’t,” he begged. ‘‘ You know you promised.” 

“ Hey,” broke in the chief, “ let me do the explaining. 
I know what it’s all about. Do you think I couldn’t see 
you two sleuthing me around for the past ten days? ” 

You thought me bug-house. I am,. All chief engi- 
neers are these days. They have to be. Why not ? Here 
187 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


I am responsible for the work and welfare of four hun- 
dred men, of a million dollar battle-boat. Engines, boilers, 
bunkers, dynamos, work-shops, and God only knows how 
many compartments and store rooms are under my care. 

‘‘Who is there to help? One senior assistant, my 
faithful Lieutenant Migg; three warrant officers; a hand- 
ful of chief petty officers ; a scanty dozen of yeomen and 
strikers. Do you think there is a superintendent in the 
country that shoulders a like burden with so little experi- 
enced help? Or receives a scant three hundred a month 
for his services? 

“ You say Eve killed myself lately, don’t sleep any, 
talk to myself, and all that rot. It’s literally true, that 
is, all except the killing part. As a matter of fact. I’ve 
gained two pounds. 

“ We were due for this high power run, twenty-four 
hours of steaming at top speed. There were a half dozen 
jobs; had to be finished. Each meant the temporary dis- 
ablement of some auxiliary, pump, or part, vital to the 
vessel’s engines. I dared not break down a feed pump 
and leave it over night. And, while I trusted my sub- 
ordinates, I felt they needed my backing at critical times. 
Morning and night are most critical. I turned out at 
four^hirty a.m. and saw the job started. By after 
breakfast all hands were at it hard. Maybe at two in the 


188 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


afternoon I would give them another boosting. And 
late in the evening when the best of them were worn out 
I went down fresh from a nap or a good book and 
slammed life into them again. 

I had my sleep and I had my quiet times in spite 
of the appearance I gave of being everlastingly on the 
jump. 

“ Regular hours I set for my correspondence. Re- 
ports and records were voluminous to be sure. But with- 
out their realizing it I got the bulk of the mess out of the 
warrants. 

As for my strange ways and talking to myself that 
was mostly pose. These men bet on the competitions I 
am sure. They talk ashore with engineers from other 
ships, compare notes and ‘boast their own proficiency. 
But that very habit means spreading of any particular 
devices or improvements I may have for my own engines. 

“ So I led them off the track by seeming to have 
secrets unfathomable. By the diligence of Migg, who 
frankly doubts my sanity yet, I let their attention be at- 
tracted to his own indispensable cleverness at operation 
and repair. In this way I was able to utilize the supply 
of exhaust steam which ordinarily runs to the condenser. 
By a simple series of bypasses I put it through the extra 
evaporators and increased our supply of fresh water. 

189 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


“ Hundreds of tons of coal I have been able to save 
through propaganda which impressed the need of con- 
serving our water. All fresh water must be distilled from 
salt. A ton of coal can be expressed in so many gallons 
of fresh water it will make. With the executive officer’s 
aid I have made every man aboard appreciate this vital 
fact. 

“ I have studied the game of coaling ship as a mother 
studies her catechism of nursing. The collier master over- 
rates the amount we take. The shiftless bucket-runners 
spill thousands of pounds overboard in the aggregate. In 
one coaling I figured that I gained nearly ten tons on the 
charged account. 

I’ve made curves of performance for every man and 
pump and piston in my care. I know what each will do, 
and under what conditions their tasks will best be done. 
I’ve planned my campaigns like a German general. I’ve 
fought my way through the despair of ignorance and un- 
trained men. I’ve turned out firemen and engineers by 
the score. I’ve taken reserve officers who didn’t know 
a valve stem from a knitting needle and made them into 
chiefs.” 

The chief paused breathless. “ And what’s my re- 
ward?” he snorted. You nincompoops call me a 
lunatic ! ” 


190 


A CHIEF ENGINEER 


Migg jumped to the challenge. “ Never think that — 
that it was meant that way/’ he exclaimed. It was your 
good — the ship ” 

The chief held up his hand. Fine rise, old fish. 
Now just keep your shirt on. It’s rather a compliment 
to my energy you’ve paid me. Ten years more and you’ll 
be having the same said about you. In the meantime 
pack your troubles and a couple of shirts in an old kit 
bag and take the ten days’ leave I asked the exec, to 
give you. And if you come back without your oldtime 
tan and lumpy muscles I’m going to put you down for a 
general court ! ” 

The paymaster left. He wanted to think. In his room 
he absentmindedly opened a letter just come. “ Dear 
Pay,” it ran, “ when can we have that fishing trip? I’m 

worn out with this engineering business ’Twas 

from the fleet supply officer. “ Everyone has gone crazy 
with competitions. I dream about the price of coal at 
night. But it must be worth while. Several chiefs tell 
me the saving will be nearly $1,000,000 for the whole 
navy.” 

The fat paymaster stopped and shook his head. A 
million,” he murmured. “ So that’s what men like Migg 
are worth 


IX 


A NAVIGATOR 

War, bloody war, can 'be a frolic, a picnic, a spree, 
even a wild hat-flinging debauch. It all depends on the 
preparation a man’s had. A cracking good gunner will 
get the excitement of a world’s series out of a brush 
with subs at dawn. A deep down seagoing naval strate- 
gist can go drunk with the joy of an afternoon’s tag 
game with another squadron. The thundering death- 
dealing salvoes of a battle’s last decisive hour seem only 
the mad crescendo of its frenzied orchestra. 

But to get the real essence of joy out of being hunted 
and killed, out of toiling endlessly, of praying for the 
barest chance to hunt and kill one’s fellow on this idiotic 
little planet, a man must combine the wisdom of a phil- 
osopher with the keen perception of a neurologist. He 
must know his nerves and moods and the logic thereof 
as the French Ace knows his motor. And he must use 
this knowledge to interpret his pain. 

Otherwise he will writhe in anguish — at least that’s 
what his historian will say. Migg’s idea of writhing in 
anguish, however, was intimately connected with movies 

192 


A NAVIGATOR 


and like forms of low drama. And watching sunrise 
from the engineroom hatch of a first-class battleship under- 
way at five A.M. on a fresh June morning seemed as un- 
dramatic as frying eggs or getting fitted for a suit of 
clothes. Yet the truth of it was that Migg’s soul, or 
whatever emotional content he had -inside of him, was 
squirming around worse than a stepped-on worm. 

Lordy-Mike,’’ he groaned, “ am I ever going to get 
out of that blistering en^meroom? Been here a year 
now, and it seems ten. Might as well be farming or 
tending furnaces in Keokuk for all the good Fm doing 
in this war. Some hero, I am.’" 

The sharp pipe of a bosun’s whistle cut into his reverie. 
‘‘ Wash down yer decks! ” was passed hoarsely along the 
upper works. A sailorman emerged from below, took a 
hose from its rack, and unrolled it preparatory to con- 
necting up. As he leaned over the plug a second son of 
the sea stepped from behind a ventilator cowl and let fly 
a swift kick upon his stern sheets. 

The result of this kick was instantaneous. Without 
waiting to measure or even identify its originator the vic- 
tim swung about. All of him swung, shoulder, body, 
arm and fist. The fist missed its apparent target of the 
other’s chin and thudded home on a solid meat-covered 
chest. 

13 


193 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Caught you that time I ” the assailant barked, re- 
turning the blow with compound interest. 

“ ’Tain’t your hose — ^ ” Biff I Another thud of fist ; 
and meat. “ There — — ’’ as one landed on the invader's ; 
nose. “ Now go bleed in your own part of the ship. I | 
won’t have no messes made on my deck 1 ” ; 

Migg watched with languid interest. ‘‘ Lucky dogs,” | 
he muttered. If I don’t get in a scrap o-f some sort 
pretty soon I’m going to make one of my own.” 

Which was truer than he knew. Because if a man | 
endures the grind of months, training men in the face of 
all the odds a grim and sudden war can mean, he’s going 
to get staler than a storage egg. And his grouch will stick 
out like the spikes on a bulldog’s collar. 

The ship was just entering port. A red cage buoy 
passed, its bell tolling with dreary evenness. “ There’s 
the navigator,” Migg went on, his thought suggested and 
colored by the melancholy buoy, ‘‘ just sticks around up 
there on the bridge and plays with his sights from morn- 
ing to night. Nothing to do in port, and a regular party 
at sea.” 

Migg lived to eat those words. 

Breakfast was dull. Fresh food had given out and 
the canned milk was worse than usual. Migg had just 


194 


A NAVIGATOR 

finished a piece of tough steak when Steel wick, the chief 
engineer, entered. 

‘‘ Good morning, Migg. Got your orders, I see.’' 

Migg jumped as if shot. ‘‘Where?” he almost 
shouted. 

“ One of the convoy ships, I believe. Congratula- 
tions. You’ll get over and have some fun after all.” 

From the wardroom Migg dashed to the communica- 
tion office. “ Let’s see your last night’s dispatches.” But 
search proved futile. The orders had apparently come 
in code. 

His surmise proved correct. The captain’s orderly 
appeared with a copy. “To the U, S. S, Escort,'' it 
read, “ and report on board for such duty as may be 
assigned you.” 

With a fervent hope that at least there wouldn’t be 
any more engineering Migg galloped around the comer 
to his room on the starboard side. He rang for a mess 
boy. “ Get my trunk and sea-bag out of the storeroom,” 
he ordered. 

In thirty minutes he was packed. Navy men do it 
that way, especially in wartime. Two suits of blue ser- 
vice, one of cits, a few whites, shoes, socks, and under- 
wear, made up the bulk of his scanty wardrobe. “ Cleared 
for action ” one calls it, comparing this meagre outfit to 


195 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


the long and complicated list of dress uniforms and 
civilian clothing necessary in peace. 

A few books and papers, shoes, rainclothes, and a 
pair of uniform caps completed the job. 

The telephone bell rang. A modern battleship’s tele- 
phone can be just as much a nuisance as the wife’s First 
Aid to Gossip ” at home. “ Lieutenant Migg,” he 
answered brusquely. 

Hello, Migg. This is the radio officer. Just caught 
a confirmation of your orders. Says you must proceed ) 
immediately. We anchor at ten. Can you get away by 
noon ? ” 

Miigg laughed. ‘‘Can I, you boob! Well rather. 
I’m packaged and ready this minute.” 

At noon Migg boarded the Escort. He found her 
with steam up and ready to sail. Excitement of the 
change and the prospect of visiting the war zone left 
little room to grasp the suddenness with which he had 
been wrenched from his moorings. In the navy a man 
lives day by day. His friends and home and occupation 
are for the day alone. To-morrow he may be on his 
way to Siam with the Chinese ambassador’s body or 
catching a train for ’Frisco with telegraphic orders in 
his pocket to report for secret duty in the South Sea 
Islands. 


196 


A NAVIGATOR 


Glad to see you aboard,” was the captain’s set wel- 
come. 

“ Thank you, Captain Glint. May I ask you, sir, what 
duty I shall have? ” 

The skipper studied Migg for a long minute. All his 
thirty years’ experience with men and ships went into that 
penetrating gaze. And gradually, as he took in the boy’s 
clear eyes, stiff chin, and wiry build, approval grew in his 
expression. 

“ Mister Migg, the department has given me instruc- 
tions to transfer the navigator when we get to the other 
side. I understand you have done the job on a destroyer. 
Though that doesn’t mean much on those small draft 
craft. I’ve decided that your fine record makes it possible 
for me to take you on as our deep sea pilot. Pick up what 
you can on the way over and stand by to relieve for the 
trip back.” 

The navigator, Lieutenant-Commander Giles, turned 
out to be a stranger to Migg though each had heard of 
the other. ‘‘ You youngsters hatch from Annapolis so 
rapidly these days that I don’t know anyone any more,” 
he said cheerily. He was one of those medium men one 
sees throughout the service. Medium height and build 
and color. Not unhappy, but serious with that atmos- 


197 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


phere of a wife and children somewhere along the coast, 
all struggling with the mean prohibitions of navy pay. 

“ Yes sir, IVe heard it said that ten years ago an 
officer knew every other officer by his nickname. Still, 
with an increase from around sixty thousand men to 
over two hundred thousand since war began, we can’t 
expect to be much of a fraternity any more. We ought 
to have eight thousand commissioned officers in another 
year.'’ Giles nodded and lit a cigarette for his successor. 

“ I understand I’m going to relieve you,” Migg con- 
tinued getting down to business. 

“ So the skipper tells me. We are getting underway 
in an hour. Come up to the chart house and start from 
the beginning.” 

The bridge of a man-of-war is ordinarily the quietest 
and calmest part of her. But getting up anchor and 
putting out of port complicates matters tremendously. 
There is then a new atmosphere of mingled confusion and 
tense effort. Few orders are shouted and those by the 
captain alone. He may wish a sounding repeated or a 
word from the bosun at the anchor. Otherwise his com- 
mands are sharp directions to the helmsman or a brief 
interchange of opinion with the navigator. 

Anchor’s aweigh, sir,” from the forecastle. 


198 


A NAVIGATOR 


The skipper’s hand goes up in acknowledgment. Put 
her on the course,” to the navigator. And remember, 
Mr. Giles,” he cautions, that turning buoy near the 
outer channel is ten yards out of place. Don’t cut it too 
close.” 

Migg followed it all with the greatest intentness. He 
realized that within a few days his would be the sole and 
tremendous responsibility of guiding the great ship across 
the ocean and of bringing her into port through nets and 
fogs and reefs and the nerve-racking worry of other 
shipping. 

It must be remembered that the naval navigator is no 
hide-bound artist of the trade-route ruts. The liner runs 
month by month in the lanes of the sea between two or 
three ports. Though compass errors vary rapidly with 
latitude and longitude the limits for one particular area 
may be quickly learned. 

Harbors are marked within by lights and buoys. With- 
out are lights again, and other well charted landmarks. 
But fog and storm can obliterate them all. For the novice 
or the stranger disaster is almost sure if he persists in 
trying to force an entrance. The Regular Routers,” 
however, catch a glimpse of some well known shadow in 
the mist, or their beacon may be only a prevailing wind, 
the odor of pines, maybe the wafted stench of a distant 


199 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


factory. Every sounding is a familiar handclasp with 
the ocean’s clammy bottom. Ahead full speed I ” and 
blind to all intents, they hit the hole each time. 

The warship is a high-class tramp. Around the globe 
she snoops and dodges. To the Norfolk Roads she 
threads her way for coal. Kinking rivers from the Capes 
to Minot’s ledge are her pathways to lodging and dock. 
Evil unlit cays and coral gallows lie in ambush for her 
bottom’s virtue when Washington declares the winter’s 
spell of target practice off Guantanamo. Through Panama 
and out to the romance of palm lined isles is a weary 
jaunt. And Asia’s eastern face is pocked and pitted with 
anxieties for the sun-puffed navigator’s eyes. 

So the navigator of a man-of-war is a real he-man. 
His owners give him none of the liberty of other tramps. 
He must come and go on steel-shod orders. Never a 
word of praise for the times he puts the hook in the 
hole ” — ^but God have mercy on him when he doesn’t I 
''Had you tried the French coast before?” Migg 
inquired more in curiosity than for information. 

"Heck no!” was the emphatic reply. "I just got 
out my sailing directions, charts, and almanacs, and all 
the other stuff we’re supplied with and doped out what I 
ought to steer. Then with a couple of solid meditations 


200 


A NAVIGATOR 


on what would hit me if I put her on the beach and a 
prayer for luck I took her over/’ 

But you couldn’t recognize the landmarks in that 
mug of a winter they have over there.” 

“ No, you’re right. Sailing directions are fine in their 
way. But nothing ever looks the same twice along a 
coast. And you may bet your bottom dollar that the guy 
who wrote the book or drew the chart picture was down 
there some sunny day and in a rush to get back to his 
bonnie skirt.” 

And so on, maligning science and authority. Which 
is the way with deep sea pilots. Nor are they greatly 
wrong. For after all, to cleave that blue saucer’s rim we 
call the horizon, at the mathematical point towards which 
our destination lies is humanly almost impossible. Ex- 
perience, hard work, diligent attention to standard in- 
structions, and, above all, a heaven-sent sense of locality 
which none too many have, makes the naval navigator. 

“ Bearing of the can buoy, Giles,” a bit nervously 
from the skipper. 

“ Two nine two, sir,” is the snappy answer after a 
shine through the pelorus (a compass at the bridge end). 
‘‘ We’ll clear the shoal all right. Guess we’re being set a 
bit off by the tide.” 

Once clear of soundings, that is, well into deep water. 


201 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


the navigator got a breathing space. So long as good 
weather held his problem was merely a succession of 
astronomical sights and the dead reckoning both plotted 
on the chart, one checking the other. 

“ Come down and let me turn over the office to you,’’ 
Giles suggested the third cloudless day. “ These war- 
riors on the topside will look out for the U-boats, and we 
can get back in time for a meridian altitude.” 

He led Migg to the navigator’s office. This was a 
small cell placed inboard. Its bulkheads were lined with 
bookshelves, letter files and blueprints. A broad desk 
filled one side. 

“ Here, Evans,” he said to one of the two yeomen 
who rose and stood at attention, “ have you finished that 
invoice? ” 

“ Not quite, sir,” the man replied, picking a sheaf of 
papers from the desk. Here are the survey outfits, 
several hundred items. Charts and navigating instru- 
ments will be taken care of by the quartermaster, and 
the chief electrician promised me he would have in all 
the data for gyro compasses by this afternoon.” 

'' And the ship’s library ? ” 

The yeoman looked worried. “ Smith,” indicating 
his sideworker, “ says he’s covered about three thousand 
volumes but there are two hundred out and missing.” 

202 


A NAVIGATOR 

“ Officer’s rooms,” said Giles. Canvass the ward- 
room country to-night.” 

Then turning to Migg, The files,” he explained, 
are up to date. There is a huge mass of correspond- 
ence with the Naval Observatory and Hydrographic Of- 
fice but I’ve got pretty nearly full sets of everything 
now.” 

After a digression on the work and worry of the 
large ship and crew’s libraries, the complex difficulties of 
the yet unperfected gyro compasses, Giles hustled Migg 
around the corner to another den of paperwork and type- 
writers. 

“ You have to be communication officer, also. Nasty 
job in a way. All messages and dispatches that come and 
go pass through your hands. When they pass all’s well. 
When they stick — well, if a himdred spies and murderers 
have had access to their route it’s still the poor navigator’s 
fault.” 

From the offices their way led to storerooms several 
decks 'below. All the instruments, meteorological and 
otherwise — chiefly otherwise,” commented Giles. “ Here, 

you ,” to a figure stretched across some bolts of signal 

bunting and coils of line, get your dirty carcass out of 
here.” 

203 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Said carcass stirred and groaned. “ Yessir/’ came 
weakly as the seaman staggered out. 

“ Seasick,” said Giles drily. They dope off down | 
here and then wonder why their bellies go back on them.” ! 

Ten minutes were spent in the gyro compartment. ; 
Migg wished it had been ten hours. This pair of weird j 
animals, known as gyro compasses, fascinated him. Elec- i 
tricity gave them impulses. Ingenuity of genius smoothed | 
their path to movement. But the shadowy invisible power ‘ 
which directs their groping fingers everlastingly into the 
exact north-south line is the mystery of cosmic nature. 

The crossing took twelve days. To Migg the period 
was all too brief. Actual astronomical work he had 
mastered at Annapolis. Ordinary piloting came to him 
during his trick in the flotilla. But to combine the busi- 
ness administration of a large department on board ship 
with the large personnel and thousands of dollars worth 
of delicate instruments, in addition to the work and worry 
of actual practical navigation seemed tremendous. 

“ You’re lucky. Old Man,” he told Giles at their part- 
ing. “ But,” he added almost pathetically, “ it’s a horri- 
ble feeling to have you go and leave me in this job not 
half broken to the stiffness of its hardness.” 

“ Oh, you’ll get away with it all right,” Giles laughed. ’ 
Don’t let the Old Man bluff you. Give these assistant 


204 


A NAVIGATOR 

navigators daily hades, and you’ll be amazed how easily 
it goes.” 

Migg’s first move was to start over once more the 
myriad details of gear and equipment for which he was 
now responsible. Before he had reached chronometers 
on the list a note was brought from the exec. You will 

be member of a court of inquiry to be convened ” 

Migg remembered the grounding of a small patrol boat 
in Cherbourg. 

He found he was also the judge-advocate of a gen- 
eral court. “ A durn nuisance,” he told himself. But 
there proved to be an insurmountable idea that the navi- 
gator ought to be idle after the ship has reached port, “ so 
why not sting him for all the courts and boards ? ” As a 
matter of fact, Migg knew that there was little enough 
time to complete the routine of his own department be- 
fore sailing. And at sea he could count on but few hours 
a day. 

After a rather tumultuous week the Escort hove up 
for home. Migg stood at his little chart board on the 
bridge filled with the thrill of what was to come. First 
there must be the excitement of passing through the war 
zone. Any of the first days might bring the action which 
he so craved. Would follow keen days on the high seas 
off soundings, out of sight of land, when he himself would 


205 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


be master of the destiny of the ship. And finally the cul- 
minating problem of entering the narrow and tortuous 
channel to the home port. 

A local pilot was hired for leaving the harbor. Regu- 
lations permit taking a pilot at the discretion of the com- 
manding officer. But only when there is a new navi- 
gator or in some particularly perilous and unknown locality 
is this outside aid relied upon. 

Clear of the harbor the skipper gave Migg to under- 
stand that he might have a free hand. ‘‘ You will spend 
most of your time in the chart house. And, by the way, 
what is your plan for a day’s work? ” ^ 

“ Starsight’s at four-thirty in the morning,” Migg 
came back promptly. ‘‘I’ll have these worked up by seven 
ithirty. Eight o’clock time sights of the sun and dead 
reckoning combined with a few Marc St. Hilaire lines 
will take most of the forenoon. I’ll repeat the same after 
lunch and have another set of stars at night.” 

The skipper scratched his grizzled chin. “ That’ll do 
the trick, I guess. After all, :the main squeeze is when we 
strike the shelf on the other side.” 

In accordance with his plan Migg was on the bridge 
at twilight, sextant in hand and quartermaster ready to 
mark time. Hardly had he brought Polaris to the horizon 
when a lookout gave the submarine alarm. “ Starboard 


206 


A NAVIGATOR 


quarter ! ” the cry came. But guns were already manned. 
The ship swung about almost on her heel. Flashes of 
discharge cut the gray evening in ugly yellow gashes. 
But the Hun was persistent. The fight went on into the 
midwatch. There seemed to be a circle of boats waiting 
for their prey. 

‘‘ This is what comes of indiscreet talk,” the captain 
exclaimed with an exasperated oath. “ Keep your eye 
open, Migg. Your job is not to fight. There^s land 
abeam and we may be — — ” 

He didn’t finish. A tremor ran through the ship. 
“ They’ve got us 1 ” thought Migg, waiting for further 
signs of explosion. None came. A quiet “ Steady — ^five 

port — steady ,” from the skipper brought the little 

group to their senses. The ship stood on. She had no 
list. There were no reports from below. 

Let’s see that chart again, Migg,” said the skipper. 

Yes, thought so, um-hum,” he trunkled to himself. 
“ Migg, we’ve touched the outer bar. Ask the officer of 
the deck to make an investigation. We may be taking 
water.” 

But soundings in double bottoms gave notice they 
were all dry. And the U-boats slipped away in the night. 
“ Mus^t have been our propeller, then,” was the skipper’s 


207 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


verdict. But we can’t go back. If a blade’s bent you’ve 
got your work cut out for you, Migg.” 

He meant that a bent blade gives abnormal resjLilts 
for speed. He meant that when Migg would check up 
his dead reckoning, or the supposed distance run judg- 
ing by revolutions of the screw, with astronomical obser- 
vations there would be large discrepancies. Either the 
ship would actually go much faster or slower than the 
original standard, depending on which way the blade was 
crumpled. 

Gorry, what a mess ! ” wailed Migg the second day. 

Our noon position is twenty miles out. And I’m dumed 
if I know whether it’s that fool screw or my fool figures.” 

The skipper had equal doubts. And, as he explained, 
there would be no consolation found in the peacetime 
possibility of asking another vessel to check positions. 
“ Anyone’s likely to be an enemy in disguise these days 
and give wrong dope for spite.” 

In spite of what the Highbrows say navigation is a 
comparatively simple matter. The earth is considered to 
be a small sphere, the size of a baseball, or a pea; or, if 
you please, an apple dumpling. Surrounding it is a flat 
blue spherical ceiling on which the Almighty has pasted 
the glimmering stars and moon by night, the blazing sun 
by day. By a simple sextant the relative position of any 


208 


A NAVIGATOR 


one of these bodies may be measured, either from one 
another or from the horizon. Then with the aid of a few 
almanacs and tables, which a farmhand could master with 
little practice, the corresponding position of the earthly 
observer may be calculated. 

But errors creep in. Tired eyes, improperly adjusted 
instruments, misty horizon and sky, and a dozen other 
factors combine to outwit the pigmy man. So he says 
after each sight: “ IVe steered due west for four hours, 
my speed has been twelve knots. Therefore, my dead 
reckoning position must be here.’’ And he points with 
grimy finger to his pair of pencil dots on the chart the 
fraction of an inch apart, proving that the ship is some- 
where near one or the other of them. 

Which was what Migg did. But the points were 
separated half an inch, forty miles on the mid-sea chart. 

I know it’s rotten, sir,” he said to the skipper. 

Then throw out the dead reckoning,” growled the 
old man. ‘‘ That’s all we can do. But give me plenty of 
sights.” 

And Migg did, morning, noon and night, till his 
eyes ached. His nerves got jumpy, an unusual phenome- 
non for that youth’s reliable strength. He told the third- 
class quartermasters to keep clear of the chart house ex- 
cept on duty. With navigator’s assistants and several 

14 209 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


books and charts there was sardine-like congestion in the 
hot little room. And besides was the nerve-racking neces- 
sity of closing the ports in order not to show lights. The 
door was connected so as to break the electric circuit 
when it was opened. Resulting periodic eclipses in the 
midst of Migg’s steady mental strain were like poking a 
raw sore. 

He finally threatened to throw out the first man who 
entered without good excuse. Better keep away,’^ 
warned Hamlin, the chief. Aw,” was the fresh-caught 
recruit’s reply, no officer ever touches a man. It ain’t 
done.” 

All right, lad,” the older man replied, “ but don’t 
say I didn’t give you fair word first. I know what that 
officer is up against. The skipiper knows. And a court’d 
know. But you don’t.” 

And he didn’t, that recruit. For he forgot his bag 
of Bull one evening after a misty day when Migg had got 
only two poor sights. And he went to the chart house 
door and knocked. On admittance he stooped to the chart 
cupboard for a sack concealed beneath. 

“ That’s what you wanted, was it? ” Migg questioned 
coldly. To one knowing Migg his very tone was a double 
danger signal. 


210 


A NAVIGATOR 


‘‘ Yessir; a man’s got to have a smoke, you know,” 
was the anything but polite reply. 

“ He does, does he ? ” Migg rejoined deliberately, re- 
moving a ragged eyeshade. “ Well there’s something else 
you need — ^ — ” And with a deft but powerful grapple 
Migg seized the man and threw him clean across the door- 
jam, out into the blackness of a night full of lurking peril 
for an incautious ship. 

And what could be more incautious than unnerving 
the one upon whom her safety most depends : the navi- 
gator ? Later the recruit apologized. 

The sixth day was overcast. The seventh likewise. 
The eighth and ninth were decidedly misty. On the tenth, 
not two hundred miles from our Virginia Capes, real fog 
set in. 

The captain hounded Migg. No navigator sleeps after 
four A.M. or before ten p.m. But Migg was roused out 
night times as well. He was made to repeat his computa- 
tions until he dreamed their figures crept in horrible 
lines over his tortured body. 

He rigged his sounding machine early on the eleventh 
morning. Two hours too soon the bottom was got — 
Fifty-eight fathoms, sir,” Hamlin reported. It seemed 
impossible they could have crossed the hundred-fathom 
curve already. 


211 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


From time to time the fog* whistle filled the air with 
its rasping shriek. The captain paced back and forth on 
the narrow bridge, his slicker dripping with the dew of a 
drill-ground murk. He had code orders to make port 
that night. Immediate coaling was necessary, and at least 
two days must be lost at the navy yard through unavoid- 
able repairs. 

‘‘ Did you get a cut on entering the Gulf Stream? ’’ 
he inquired of Migg. 

Yes sir; and it plotted well with that last starsight. 
But there’s the current setting us up all the time ; about 
two miles an hour I would say.” 

The Cape Charles submarine bell buoy was listened 
for continually. Specimens of sand and mud brought up 
by the deep-sea lead were compared to inscriptions on the 
chart. The shadowy afternoon deepened into the gloom 
of evening. 

A single vessel was seen; not actually met, but the 
gray outline of her long low hull showed for a brief 
moment through the muggy atmosphere. 

Migg, who had finally abandoned his charts and passes 
and was leaning with close drawn eyes over the canvas 
windshield, gave a low exclamation. He rubbed his 
swollen eyelids and looked again. Then he sprang to the 
ladder. But, before he descended, he ascertained that 


212 


A NAVIGATOR 


none besides himself and the skipper had seen the craft, 
and that the latter was obviously uncertain about the 
apparition for the simple reason that no fog signal had 
been given by it at any time. 

In ten minutes Migg was back. His shoulders had a 
new breadth and potentiality about their set. His voice, 
too, had lost its weariness when he said to the captain: 
“ Sir, five miles on this course will take us to the entrance 
buoy.’’ 

The Old Man did not deign to turn his head. “If it’s 
the truth I’ll recommend you for fleet navigator. As a 
matter of fact, I’m coming to the conclusion we’ve snagged 
the lower reaches and are about fifty miles to the south’rd 
of the Cape.” 

‘ Aye, aye, sir,” Migg answered with respectful as- 
surance; “but if we slow a bit and sound carefully it’ll 
be no harm tO’ keep on, will it, sir? ” 

“ No, none at all — give her eight knots — but don’t feel 
cut up. We haven’t had a sight since Nip knows when,” 
Migg busied himself with steadying the helmsman on. 
“ Noithing to the right of two-four-nine,” said he. “ Then 
to the lookout in the eyes of the ship. “ Keep a good 
watch forrud,” he bellowed. 

As though in answer, “ B’oy ho ! ” the lookout sang 
back. 


213 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


‘‘ Well ril be eternally condemned I ” exclaimed the 
captain. Check him up — it can’t be so! ” 

But it was so — the entrance buoy to Hampton Roads, 
winking its kindly eye through the ugliness of a Chesa- 
peake night. All hands on the bridge heaved a sigh of 
relief, even the helmsman. He knew now the rest was 
simple steering through a marked lane and no more bully- 
ing from his harrassed superiors. 

For a time the skipper was occupied with observing 
how Migg laid her on the course and bearing for the next 
light. Presently he put the query Migg was waiting. 

‘‘Well, lad, how’d you do it? Smelt the red paint 
on its side, I suppose.” 

Migg chuckled. It was good to have a start on the 
right side of one’s skipper. “No sir, wasn’t smell, or 
sound, or very much of sight. You remember that dark 
loom we passed back there half an hour ago? ” 

The captain looked queerly relieved. “ What was it — 
a ship? Do you know, I have to confess I thought my 
eyes had begun to play me tricks. An old man is alert 
for signs of age.” 

“ That,” said Migg, “ was the only vessel in the world 
I’d reco'gnize through this soup. She was my old de- 
stroyer, the 204.” 

“ The devil! But she gave no signals.” 


214 


A NAVIGATOR 


No, she’s orders not to, prohably. When I made her 
out I beat it to Mr. Sparks and found, as I suspected, that 
she had reported leaving the buoy at a certain time. In 
code, of course, but I had the dope inside of two minutes 
and knew within half a mile exactly where we were.” 

Which is about all, except that next day Migg found 
he had been mysteriously relieved from duty on the gen- 
eral court. And, though it may have been an accident, 
his quarterly report of efficiency due in Washington that 
week bore a note to the effect that, Lieutenant Migg 
is eminently fitted for his present duty; and, in spite of 
his youth, it is earnestly recommended he be retained.” 

In the navy little notes like that are money in the bank, 
proving war can be fun after all. 


X 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

Migg was sweating blood. Dewy clusters of perspira- 
tion had gathered on his tanned brow. Had his hair been 
curly and long, damp ringlets of gold would have en- 
circled his handsome face. But, as it was more of a con- 
vict length, and stubby straight to boot, it only stood wetly 
on end. 

Migg, the misogynist, the fire-eating celibate — that is, 
with one notable exception, and she was a thousand miles 
away — was eavesdropping on a woman! 

“ I tell you it was right here in the Ritz,’' the lady was 
saying, and she stamped a well groomed foot until her 
chubby body shook. 

Well, of all the nerve 1 And — ah, did he seem inti- 
matef’^ There was a peculiar and unmistakable intona- 
tion of the word. 

Rather, he pinched her arm and pretended not to 
see me. But you never would have guessed it was Dabby, 
the staid commander of our Bachelor Battalion, the hand- 
some chaperone of our navy yard hops.’’ 


216 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


Migg’s position was swiftly becoming intolerable: He 
sat in the dark little telephone booth waiting for an im- 
portant long-distance call. Also he must keep the door 
ajar as he expected at any moment to be paged for an 
equally pressing purpose. Also he was in “ cits ” cloth- 
ing. Abroad he would have been called the King’s Mes- 
senger. Strapped to his bare body were certain highly 
confidential documents. Both the call and page concerned 
them. 

Out of the depth of his embarrassment Migg found 
no means of avoiding the scandal this pair of careless 
navy matrons were casting over the shoulders of one Com- 
mander Dabney, U. S. N., then aid to the commandant 
in the League Island Yard. 

Migg tried to cough but the mention of his ship’s name 
checked him. He’s on the Sierra; executive officer, I 
believe,” the gossiper went on, this time in lower tones. 
Navy wives are drilled against mentioning matters of 
military value. But navy wives are women. 

‘‘ The Sierra's just gone in commission, hasn’t she? ” 
No. Down south some place now, on her accept- 
ance trials. The government expects to take her over in 
a month or so. She will lie up here at the yard and go in 
about the middle of October. They say she’s the big- 
gest battleship in the world ; and she looks it.” 

217 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Oh, Maud, I tell you what let’s do.” The speaker 
lowered her voice this time in reality. But Migg caught 
something about giving Cally ” a rush to teach ‘‘ Dabby ” 
a lesson, so he knew the intrigue was social. Cally,” 
no doubt, was his executive officer. Commander Callow, 
on the Sierra. Migg knew he, too, was a bachelor, and 
possessed of that easily penetrable indifference which 
makes some men so sought after. 

To Migg’s huge relief the pair finally moved away. 
Personally he had little interest in navy yard doings. 
And the plots of overly idle women with their forced 
intimacy and narrow minded attitude toward life not of 
the service more than bored him. 

His mission completed, he set course for Hampton 
Roads. Naval officers are permitted to wear plain cloth- 
ing on extended leave. Migg’s attire, however, had been 
recommended officially with the express purpose of rend- 
ering him inconspicuous. Not infrequently the man in 
uniform finds his luggage mysteriously missing, or its 
contents tampered with. And there is danger in the most 
innocent conversation with a shrewd stranger whose de- 
signs are evil. 

Off Old Point lay a magnificent collection of both 
merchant and naval vessels. At the lower end of the 
gray column of dreadnaughts loomed a dirty monster of 
218 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


a man-of--war which towered head and shoulders above 
the others. Her decks were strangely in want of white- 
clad sailormen and no commission pennant floated from 
her truck. She was the U, S'. S’. Sierra^ newest and 
hugest of our battle cruisers. A crew from the ship- 
building plant still manned her. Only a picked board of 
experienced naval officers were with the representatives 
of the plant. Callow, Migg, and a few others were among 
those who had already been ordered to the ship in anti- 
cipation of their future duty upon her. 

Having mounted an unclean gangway Migg picked his 
way among tangled coils of line and such a mess of gear 
and rubbish as he had never seen aboard a naval vessel. 

Well,’' he consoled himself, she isn’t really one of us 
yet.” 

By the rail aft he found Callow. ‘‘ Report my return, 
sir. Papers got there all right. No spies so far as I 
knew ; and nary a thrill save the scrap I had with a pull- 
man agent for my berth.” The informality of his report 
was evidence of Migg’s growing stability of reputation in 
the naval profession. Only well-tried officers earn the 
responsibility of turning the raw diamond of a newly- 
built ship into its final and finished brilliancy as an effi- 
cient fighting unit of the North Atlantic Fleet. 

‘‘ See anyone we know ? ” the commander inquired. 

219 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


No, except Migg hesitated as he recalled the 

gossip outside his booth in the Ritz. He was fated to 
have that conversation cut deeper than he knew. ‘‘ Just 
one or two of the yard crowd,” he replied. No one to 
speak to.” 

Callow nodded absentmindedly. ‘‘ Come below, Migg, 
Tve got a real job for you,” he said. 

Through littered decks and half-lit passageways their 
path led to an unkempt office. One desk was clear, com- 
paratively SO only, for on it were spread such a disorder 
of plans, blue-prints, invoices, requisitions and a score of 
other forms and papers, as Migg had never seen before. 

“ As executive officer,” the commander began, “ it’s 
up to me to take over the ship even more than the cap- 
tain. He has the final responsibility and the general 
superintendence of all we achieve. But the countless de- 
tails of manning and equipping flood upon me alone. Of 
course, I expect to have heads of departments, an engi- 
neer and gunnery officer, a paymaster and a doctor. But 
whatever they do, how, when, and where, comes even- 
tually through or into my hands.” 

“And I suppose we’ve got to make speed?” inter- 
polated Migg. 

The commander threw up his hands. “ They keep 
trying to impress me that we are at war.” He whistled. 


220 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

'' There’s going to be more hand to hand action in this 
one office next month than in a season on the western 
front!” 

'' And I’m going to have my share, sir? ” asked Migg 
eagerly. 

'' You bet your sweet young and unsophisticated life! 
In fact, that’s the very reason I’ve got you here. Gun- 
nery and engineering jobs were full. As a lieutenant you 
haven’t quite enough rank for either one — not yet, at any 
rate. I persuaded the bureau to let you come here as my 
temporary assistant. Told them that was the best way 
to put velocity into my itask. You can start to-day — this 
minute; I want a station bill/' 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” said Migg with his customary eclat, 
though having but the vaguest idea what was expected of 
him. His friends often said that when anybody told Migg 
to do something he put his helm* hard over and went 
full speed ahead ! ” 

His course took him on deck. He had already served 
on several warships and knew that a station bill is the 
ship’s baedeker, directory, and almanac in one. It is her 
bible and her regulations combined. As an independent 
government the station bill is the ship’s constitution. No 
man in the service can write or even collaborate such a 
piece of work singlehandedly. 

221 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Suddenly Migg’s alert eye fell on the flagship anchored 
a few hundred yards down stream. I wonder/' he 
mused, if Striper is still there as first luff." 

Borrowing a boat from the pseudo-quartermaster, who 
was in reality a shop foreman, Migg sped to the gleam- 
ing leader of the fleet. He was welcomed with side-boys | 
and a bosun's pipe, and trod a deck of shimmering white 
to the polished ladder. 

Hello Strips," he shouted and threw his arms about 
his old friend. 

Migg instinctively concealed the true object of his 
visit. 

Yes, this was just a social call. He was on the Sierra 
and sick of her sloppy unfinishedness. You couldn’t 
imagine how disorganized she was. Station bill was not 
even settled yet. By the way, wouldn’t Striper let Migg 
see the flagship's bill ? 

'' Some book, eh? ” boasted the artless Strips." 

Sure is," commented Migg turning over the neat 
volume. “ Will you let me borrow it for a day or two 
while I check up some of our mess? " 

This was only the beginning. In the space of two 
days Migg had a collection of books from the fleet, of 
plans from the builders, and of other various and sundry 
digests from all naval sources on the subject of regulat- 
222 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

ing the interior and exterior complexities of a great battle- 
ship. 

By almost superhuman industry he compiled a station 
bill for the Sierra, He submitted his pile of manuscript 
to the executive officer. 

Migg, you’re a brick ! ” was the reward he got from 
Callow’s own lips. “ That’s really my job. I still may 
have to make a few corrections that it shall exactly fit 
this particular ship. But the bulk of the work is done. 
My hat off, young man, to you.” 

Which was very sweet in the ears of a lieutenant who 
would be going up for promotion in the none too distant 
future. But the wily commander did not give him any 
undue time to gloat. 

“ Now, Migg,” said Callow in a voice that had hard- 
ened almost imperceptibly, comes the application of your 
work. I mean that we go to the yard to-morrow. Three 
hundred workmen will come aboard to put the finishing 
touches. Nearly a thousand men of our complement will 
be assembled at the receiving ship. An immense amount 
of painting and cleaning, coaling, provisioning, and equip- 
ping, must be completed. And then, by custom, we can 
put her in commish on the morning set by Washington.” 

The first signs of real trouble came with the effort to 
have his bill printed. The ship’s printer complained that 


223 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


sufficient type and ink were not yet available. After 
hurried consultationwith Callow, Migg waited until reach- 
ing the yard where he went at once to the commandant’s 
office. The aide received him. 

‘‘ Gkx)d morning, Mister Migg. I remember you were 
on the Alaska last time I saw you.” Somehow his voice 
lacked sincerity. 

Yes, Commander Dabney,” Migg replied with a 
vague sense of discomfort as he remembered the conver- 
sation in the Ritz. So this was the man for whose benefit 
Migg’s own boss was to receive the attention of a pair 
of piqued females. ‘‘ I have come up,” he went on with 
an effort to concentrate, “ to see you about getting some 
very necessary supplies for the Sierra/' 

‘‘ By the way,” was the aide’s irrelevant reply, “ isn’t 
Commander Callow your executive officer? ” 

“ Yes sir.” And Migg wondered if there was a glint 
of wickedness in the eyes he held for a moment. 

“ Oh, very well,” Dabney went on after a pause, “ I’ll 
see what I can do. Just leave your list with me and there 
ought to be some action before night.” 

There was action, though of a slightly different nature 
than Migg had anticipated. He had been sitting at his 
desk now rigged alongside the commander. Suddenly 
through the port came a tumult of shouts and curses. 


224 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


Cheered by a chorus from the deck, a fight was in full 
swing on the dock. Migg recognized his printer. 

Twenty seconds passed before he could reach the pair. 
“ What the blazes ! ” he grunted as he tried desper- 

ately to separate them. Despite the size of the com- 
batants, Migg's Annapolis jiu jitsu had them apart after 
a short tussle. The stranger was a civilian. He started 
forward as though to renew the attack. Then he glared 
at Migg. And in the same instant fear seemed to come 
into his expression. Migg saw it, and doubt as to what 
it might mean must have numbed his action. For the 
man turned abruptly and ran, hopped into a waiting motor 
truck, and was off at top speed before Migg could stop 
him. 

The printer came first to his senses. “ If s my fault, 
sir,’’ said he, “ I busted him one on the nose.” 

‘‘ But why? ” asked Migg, still in the dark. 

Well, sir, you told me to have them station bills 
out to-day. This man has been here twice with ink and 
things. Twice he’s brought me exactly the wrong stuff. 
He has the bill, too, stamped all right by the command- 
ant’s officer. Begging your pardon, sir, but it looks like 
something crooked somewhere.” 

Even as he spoke a red runabout passed. Migg looked 
up in time to see that it was driven by one of the women 

15 225 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


he had seen in the hotel. Could it be possible? — no, 
surely a naval officer would noit descend to wreak pro- 
fessional vengeance for the silly jilts of a jealous woman. 

To be sure the commandant’s aide was in a position 
to delay the ^Sierra^s preparations very seriously. And 
blame for delay inevitably falls upon the head of her 
executive officer. 

Migg took the matter to Callow. Of course, nothing 
was mentioned beyond the fact that copies of the station 
bill must obstruct speedy instruction of the new officers. 
‘‘ They will be here in the morning, toO' was the rueful 
comment. “ Still it can’t be helped.” 

“ At any rate,” Migg comforted him, “ I can get ready 
your notes for the emergency drills. When you have 
organized for fire and collision, battle stations, and fire 
and rescue, a good part of the trouble is over.” 

“ Indeed you are wrong there, my young friend,” was 
the rather hot answer. I have especially desired to ar- 
range the messing and clothing stowage details as soon 
as possible. Assignments of storerooms will bring trouble 
into camp if there is competition for more space. I have 
to be the umpire — and you know what the bleachers yell. 
Then there are all the sea and port watches, coaling bills, 
landing force bills, and the thousand and one other de- 


226 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

tails which I am forced to settle with my officers before 
I can pretend to take up the ship’s company.” 

More than ever Migg realized that an executive officer 
was in the position of the superintendent of a huge fac- 
tory or industrial plant, and that without fixity of policy 
or personnel. What he did tO'-day might well be wholly 
changed, revised, or destroyed to-morrow. 

Migg was ready the following morning with a great 
mass of information which, it was hoped, might be turned 
over roughly to the new officers with the aid of a black- 
board in place of the missing station bills. 

“ They ought to be here now,” said the commander 
impatiently hauling out his watch. 

‘‘ Yes sir,” said Migg, they were due to report at 
the commandant’s office at nine. 

But by eleven not one had arrived. Migg called up 
Commandant Dabney twice but was told he was out. At 
eleven-thirty one of the new divisional officers turned up 
with his baggage. 

‘‘ Is it safe now ? he asked Migg after a navy welcome. 

‘‘ Safe how?” 

Why they told us you were having an inspection by 
the admiral this morning and we’d probably better not 
turn up too soon. All but me went up town again.” 

227 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Of course Migg rushed to Callow. Between them and 
the telephone every effort was made to sift out the re- 
sponsibility for the hoax. Dabney was coldly reticent, 
and the commandant would not be worried. 

This second delay, in spite of its superficial triviality, 
would add the better part of a week to the time required 
for putting the Sierra in commission. And to Migg such 
an obvious repetition eliminated the possibility of pure 
misfortune. There was enemy lurking near. Dabney’s 
part might well be accidental. Yet, without meaning to, 
Migg had noticed the almost daily arrival of notes on 
Callow’s desk, all in the same feminine hand and post- 
marked Philadelphia. 

There was no further cause .to disquiet until the very 
day of commissioning. The crew had been marched 
aboard twelve hundred strong and had fallen in at their 
parts of the ship in an orderly manner. For some days 
they had been rehearsed, so to speak, under the executive 
officer’s direction. Each knew exactly where he would 
live, and mess, and stow his clothes. From manning the 
guns to washing down the decks there was a fixed division 
of effort. Commander Callow — and Migg — were about 
to see the first fruits of their labor. 

The commander gave Migg a few last pointers. I 
will have them march aft as soon as all divisions report,” 
228 


ON THE DAY OF COMMISSIONING THE CKEVV HAD BEEN MARCHED ABOARD TWELVE HUNDRED STRONG AND 
HAD FALLEN IN AT THEIR PARTS OF THE SHIP IN AN ORDERLY MANNER 



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AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


he explained. “ Then the captain reads his orders and 
the band plays. A quartermaster has been told off to hoist 
colors and commission pennant at the proper moment. 
Next comes emergency drills followed by presentation of 
the silver service. 

It all went smoothly enough up to the point of fire 
drill. For some inexplicable reason the bugler was sud- 
denly missed. Another was quickly secured and the blar- 
ing call rang out. 

Instant confusion swept through the ship. Not real 
confusion, though, for when ranks broke not an indi- 
vidual lacked some definite duty to perform. Some seized 
hoses, others manned the plugs. Mattresses and extin- 
guishers were brought to the designated point for smoth- 
ering flames, and a repair party assembled aft. 

In the midst of all this riot an orderly seized Migg. 
His face worked wildly but apparently either his voice or 
breath was lost. Migg permitted himself to be led on a 
run towards the upper deck. Callow stood over a yawn- 
ing hatch. Smoke was pouring out. 

“ Sound the alarm again,’' he shouted. Make it fire 
amidships. There’s the real thing here ! ” 

As Migg sprang around to obey a boatswain’s mate 
caught his arm. Migg threw him off angrily. Bugler ! ” 
he bellowed, “ sound — what in hades do you want ?” to 


229 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


the mate who had thrust his face up into Migg’s before he 
could finish the order. 

It’s the spanners and hoses, sir; they don’t fit! ” 

“ Don’t fit — — ” Migg could not believe his ears. 
Without waiting for the bugler he dashed to the nearest 
plug. Two men struggled with a hose ring patently too 
small for the plug. A broken monkey-wrench and a 
swab handle told of their efforts to do without a spanner. 

No spanners either, sir,” one panted. 

Here was a nice mess. No hose and a real fire, one 
that could scarcely be serious as there was no explosive 
aboard, but that might cause enough damage to delay 
further the Sierra’s sailing date. 

Migg ran the full length of the deck shouting orders 
to men on the deck as he went. In a few minutes squads 
could be seen galloping down from the receiving ship with 
a handy billy and their own hose. 

“ Why in the name of Neptune have they brought that 
monstrosity? ” Migg cried, pointing to the billy (a hand 
pump for connecting to the sea or a reservoir) . '' Power’s 
shut off the yard main! ” was the startling answer. 

A brisk fight put an end to the fire. The damage was 
not great after all. When the excitement had subsided 
Callow sent for Migg. I didn’t like to tell you before,” 
he said simply, “ but definite pressure has been brought 

230 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


to bear to keep us from getting out of here. One day it’s 
a freak of seeming misfortune on the ship; the next it 
appears in high ranking circles.” 

Migg did some tall mental straining before he spoke. 

Commander,” he began quietly, “ I am sorry you have 
not been a little more confiding. I believe I could have 
helped.” He paused half hoping that his boss would con- 
fess suspicion of Dabney who Migg knew from what he 
had heard at the Ritz, was being turned against Callow 
by the designs of the two women. That the regular daily 
letters on Callow’s desk were from one of the conspira- 
tors Migg was positive. Whether her cajolery and pre- 
tended interest in the busy executive officer was having 
its desired result, Migg could judge only from the vicious 
means which — so it had turned out — ^Dabney had taken 
to avenge himself upon the unsuspecting Callow. 

But Migg was not rewarded by any symptoms of 
over-confidence in what the elder man had to say. In- 
stead he was surprised by being stopped instantly. Never 
mind that,” said Callow hastily, and with heightened 
color. Migg knew both women were married but thought 
the matter rather too serious for delicacy. I just wished 
you to know that this business has been going on,” he 
continued. ‘‘ We will put to sea in the monning.” 

The executive officer is in charge on the bridge at 


231 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


getting underway. To clear a dock his command of sea- 
manship must be masterly. There are dozens of unwieldy 
lines and only the most careful manipulation of helm 
and engines can guide the great hulk out when wind and 
tide are doing their utmost to frustrate all efforts. 

Callow was more than vigilant. After the affair of 
the spanners and hoses he trusted none of the previous 
inspections and reports. He personally inspected all 
watertight compartments and the openings to the double 
bottoms. As the crew fell in for morning muster he 
made a rapid run about the ship before the officers came 
to him with their regular reports. 

The executive officer then sought his captain. All 
ready for getting underway, sir,” he said in his snappy 
military way. 

Very well, sir,” the old man came back bluffly. 
‘‘ Single the lines and let’s get out of this rotten place.” 
He hated every moment not spent on the high seas. It is 
the penalty of enchanitmenit the ocean demands for a life- 
time of deepsea daring. 

As the ship rode towards midstream Migg saw Callow 
wave his hand to someone at the dock. A handkerchief 
fluttered in reply. In spite of the distance Migg saw it was 
a woman’s hand held the farewell signal. If he could 
only have seen which of the vampires it was! And he 


232 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


wished even more he dared lay bare to the commander 
what an outrage was being perpetrated on his innocent 
good nature. 

The trip was intended to be what is known as a 
shake-down cruise. A week or two of steaming would put 
crew and ship into shape. She would find herself,” as 
it were. Migg continued to be an aide for the executive 
officer. And more than ever he came to admire that 
gentleman’s capacity for work. 

He was clever, too. The executive must grant and 
order all liberty and leave. When the Sierra made port 
there was always a deluge of special requests. I just 
heard my wife was sick, an’ here’s the letter, sir,” would 
be the pathetic tale. And Callow, in keeping with the 
traditions of the service, would grant the poor fellow the 
week or ten days desired. I’d rather make a hundred 
mistakes the wrong way than keep one man here who 
really ought to go,” he’d say. 

But he was seldom overrun. Migg discovered that he 
kept a casualty file.” Every time there was an aunt or 
uncle or grandmother dead in a man’s family, requiring 
the lucky individual to take a week off. Callow would list 
it. After any one man had as many as three tragedies in 
his own home there was an official investigation. And 
woe betide the wretch that had played him false! 


233 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


‘‘ Holding mast was another period of strain re- 
quiring the utmost skill and judgment on the part of the 
executive officer. All reports of offenses requiring dis- 
ciplinary action were brought to him outside his office 
each morning at nine. Any special requests or complaints 
were also present. The motley array of faces was usually 
punctuated with scowls, black-eyes, and such a variety of 
looks of mingled rage and hatred as would have graced 
a criminal court. 

The commander’s task was to hold the wand of justice 
over each and every case, a task which would have tried 
the patience of Solomon. And upon his success in ferret- 
ing out the trouble or in giving satisfaction to the injured, 
whether by punishment, or fair warning, depended the 
happiness of the whole ship. 

Broader duties were no less stringent. ‘‘ Migg, let 
me have the commander-in-chief’s schedule for us next 
month,” would be the introduction to a long study of 
routine work. Guess we’ll have to concentrate on gun- 
nery this week, and let the school periods go for a few 
days,” might be the verdict. 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” from Migg in response, “ but there 
will have to be full rehearsals for battle inspection before 
the tenth, and we are supposed to train several hundred 


234 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

broadside gun crews for transfer by the end of the 
quarter.” 

When he wasn’t signing papers Callow might be found 
in almost any part of the ship. From a bilge or double 
bottom to the spotting tops he travelled unceasingly, in- 
specting with his subordinates, or planning with them 
some means for bettering the looks or efficiency of the 
great man-of-war. 

Commander,” protested the first lieutenant one rainy 
morning, I don’t like to have my carpenters out there 
in that pouring rain. I realize the work on boats must be 
finished in time for sailing drill, but our rain clothes are 
not plentiful and there is sure to be a large number of 
valuable tools ruined.” 

“ Take them off the job at once,” was the kindhearted 
reply. And when the weather clears we can finish up.” 

But the matter was by no means concluded. At eight 
o’clock each evening the executive must report all parts 
of the ship secure. 

‘‘ Very well,” was the skipper’s bored answer. And 
Callow, I don’t like to speak to you again about having 
exercises in boats under oars and sails. The department 
considers such training very important for the new men.” 

“ Yes sir, I understand. But with rainy weather and 
carpenters ” 

235 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Never mind all that. Results are what count.” And 
the old sea dog bit savagely into his cigar, leaving his 
executive no alternative other than a simple ‘‘ Aye, aye, 
sir.” 

But all these trials were in order with the arduous and 
exacting nature of an executive officer’s position. There 
were, however, whispers of a deeper and more ominous ill. 

The chief engineer had just accosted the commander 
with a plan for increasing the limits of his storerooms. 
Scarcely had the project been broached than a chief water 
tender hurried up with the news that a whole series of 
spare parts for the main condensers had been found to be 
designed for an entirely different installation. “ The in- 
ventory shows we’re all right,” was the excited explana- 
tion, “ but there’s something been juggled afore we left 
the yard, sir.” 

At that moment the paymaster happened to be passing. 

While I think of it. Commander,” he broke in as by 
prearrangement, “ I find that my provision lists don’t 
check up for a hang with what we find in the hold.” 

Holy trunnels I ” exclaimed Callow, “ what were you 
people doing when we were in the yard.” 

But their instant and eloquent denials of laxity, and 
positive asseverations that everything had been done to 
ensure accuracy when the ship was loaded, convinced the 


236 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 


commander that only in the navy vard would he find the 
key to this mystery. 

After lunch a session of heads of departments was 
called. Migg waited anxiously for some revelation, at 
least on the part of Callow. He was disappointed. 

“ I have called you together, gentlemen,” said their 
leader, “ to let you know that we return to Philadelphia 
to-morrow. There are several reasons for this sudden 
change in plan. It is sufficient that the gunnery officer 
reports serious disagreement between his blue-prints of 
magazine floor-cocks and the actual piping as he has 
traced it. It is possible also that some of our ammuni- 
tion has been tampered with.” 

A few hours were spent in Hampton Roads before 
the Sierra put to sea. Mail was delivered half an hour 
previous to getting up anchor. Migg had just risen from 
his littered desk to visit the bridge, when there came a 
knock at the metal door to his stateroom. The commander 
entered without waiting for a response. 

In his hand he carried two letters. He held up the 
envelopes for Migg to see. To the latter’s consternation 
one was in the handwriting of Commander Dabney, the 
Other bore the feminine script he had worried so about. 

“ See these? ” was the question. “ They settle every- 
thing.” 


237 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Migg tried to answer. But the unmistakable glad- 
ness in Callow’s tone convinced him that things were far 
from settled. Else why would the commander be so 
pleased to know that his friend had played him false? 

‘‘ From what you said the other day I found out you 
knew more than I -thought — you young knave. Anyhow, 
will you be an usher ? ” 

‘‘ An usher 1 ” Migg blurted out. But I thought she 
— they were already married ! ” And then he could have 
bit his tongue off. For such a glow of pain came over 
Callow’s face that he half turned to hide it. In a moment 
though he regained his presence. 

So you know that, too ? Well, it doesn’t matter 
much, though I’d rather not have it spread.” 

“ Commander,” Migg broke out impetuously, there’s 
some misunderstanding. Please start again.” 

'' Well, Edith and I are to be married next week. 
Edith Wynne, you know — ^she and Jack Wynne separated 
two years ago.” 

« Oh breathed Migg with profound relief. ‘‘ I 

thought it was some mix-up with the yard set. And I 
was afraid ” 

Ah, I begin to see light, old scout,” laughed Callow. 
‘‘And maybe. you don’t think I know where to get off. 
They pestered the life out of me while the Sierra was 
238 


AN EXECUTIVE OFFICER 

there, those yard-skirts. Not a day went by without I 
had a bid to tea or a hop or dinner. It was easy enough 
though, to plead business.” 

“ But Dabney ? ” Miigg faltered scarcely daring to 
proceed. 

“ Good old Dabby — ^he’s going to be my best iman, 
incidentally — as in the same fix. That’s what comes of 
being a handsome bachelor. Better look out yourself, my 
young Adonis ! ” 

But still Migg doubted. Very evidently the ladies’ 
plan to rush Callow for Dabney’s benefit had gone awry. 
But what about all these delays in the Sierra's plans, the 
serious shortcomings in her equipment? Without a doubt 
they must have originated in Dabney’s office. 

Then Callow saved the day. “ Oh, yes, one thing 
more,” said he. Dabby writes they have caughit one of 
his clerks making false entries in our last reports of fit- 
ness. He feels certain there was a plot afoot to delay us. 
No doubt an approaching German naval offensive de- 
mands it. The man has been arrested and no further 
trouble is expected.” 

‘‘Thank God!” rejoined Migg fervently, “and con- 
gratulations — ” Then with a twinkle, “ But Com- 

mander,” he added, I bet good money you’re not executive 
officer in that main line bungalow this time next year! ” 


239 


XI 


A CAPTAIN 

Do you know why Robinson Crusoe thrills men ? Do 
you know whence comes the real zest of the tale of a 
pirate chieftain? Or why the outlawed bandit has been 
the boy’s hero of the ages ? 

He’s free! 

Not just at liberty to come and go as he pleases. A 
million dollars stands for that. Nor only from the bonds 
and boredom of routine work. No, it’s more than either 
one. 

Listen, brother of the species : What enthralling fas- 
cination can your ingenuity picture to equal being master 
of your own destiny? To live, and to love, and to fight, 
with all the good brute strength God gave you! Have 
you red blood ? — ^then you know. 

The same is the lure of the navy. Laugh if you will. 
Point to the deadly monotony and grind of the fleet. Jeer 
at the aristocracy of rank. Grin in smug satisfaction at 
your little cottage on the hill. Then ask your own heart 
this: 


240 



HAVE YOU RED BLOOD? THEN YOU KNOW 


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Where in the world to-day is there such despotism of 
might, such unfettered power of rule, and so untram- 
melled opportunities for turning them to golden adven- 
ture, as has the deep sea skipper. 

“ But,” you protest, only the lucky few can reach 
the top.” 

You lie!. In spirit, at least; or else you’re densely 
ignorant of the /basic formula of this great sea power we 
boast. No boy signs his name for a cruise at sea that 
does not have all that wealth and care can give him to 
enable him to reach the admiral’s rank. And more! to- the 
point : command means not mere captaincy by any means. 
The coxswain skippers his launch; the midshipman his 
fleet vedette; the warrant a tug or tender; ensigns and 
lieutenants have their subs and grimy destroyers. The 
commander is not averse to an armored cruiser. But only 
a captain commands a battleship. 

Migg’s command in the “Dungaree Navy” — (subs 
and torpedoboats) was his immediate reward for persist- 
ent energy and efflciency over an extended period of time. 
Also he had had experience in gunnery as turret oflicer, 
in engineering as senior assistant to the chief, in naviga- 
tion as navigator of the Escort and in the multifarious 
duties of an executive officer as an aide to the Sierra's ex- 
ecutive. So he fulfilled the requirements for command: 

16 


24) 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


knowledge and ability through each branch and depart- 
ment of a ship’s administration. 

At least he thought he did. But when he began to 
bone up The Navy Regulations his complacency faded 
a bit. 

It was the 204 by the way, his old destroyer, to which 
he had been ordered. So he rather enjoyed the prospect 
of relieving Lieutenant Jones then filling the skipper’s 
boots. 

“ Might as well do it according to Hoyle,” said Jones 
over the telephone, when Miigg had reported unofficially 
his arrival in town. 

‘‘ You’re lying at the outer dock? ” asked Migg. 

“ Yes. Now get your duds on and I’ll have the crew 
at quarters when you arrive. You know the Regs say 
you shall make a thorough inspection of the crew, witness 
fire and collision quarters, and have all hands mustered at 
stations for abandoning ship. “ Be here at ten to-morrow 
morning and the show will be ready — curtain up as you 
come over the gangway.” 

Thus it was that a pair of husky and overserious 
youths not past their thirty mark swapped the supreme 
command of one of Uncle Sam’s grayhounds of the sea. 

Good morning, Captain Migg,” Jones greeted as his 
relief came over the side resplendent in a brand new suit 


242 


A CAPTAIN 


of smart blue service touched at sleeves and collar with 
the metallic sheen of a lieutenant’s insignia. It is proper 
to address the commanding officer as Captain ” what- 
ever the lowliness of his rank. 

‘‘ Greetings ! ” laughed Migg with a twinkle of appre- 
ciation for the new title. Hope you’re up on the dope. 
Point out all defects and peculiarities and account for 
them, you know.” 

Almost an hour was spent on deck examining the 
crew of a hundred men. Many of them were old acquaint- 
ances of Migg’s, had been under fire with him and proved 
their worth. Strange faces he studied carefully. He had 
come tO' know that the captain depends for support upon 
every hand down to the lowest cook and coal heave. 

Followed a thorough inspection of the lower decks, 
enginerooms, quarters, and stores compartments. Even 
the double bottoms were given a thorough going over 
before Migg was satisfied. 

“ Paper stuff now,” he demanded briefly. And was 
given the ship’s official files. A safe full of confidential 
signal books, ciphers, and secret publications completed 
the list. Keys to magazines were the final badge of his 
succession. 

Don’t forget,” warned Jones, “ that a skipper’s re- 
sponsible for stowage and care of all explosives. Last 


243 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


admirars inspection I had a magazine floodcock that 
wouldn’t work and nearly got under a hack for it.” 

After the ceremony Migg made a cursory examina- 
tion of routine orders and instructions in effect and then 
locked himself in his little cabin forward for a final — so 
he confidently believed — ^glance at the Blue Book. He was 
destined to return innumerable times tO' that broad cata- 
logue of his duties and responsabilities. Every officer 
does, the big admiral included. And few fail to find some 
new item or interpretation at each incursion. 

‘‘ Gosh ! ” Migg exclaimed not at all in keeping with 
his new dignity, ‘‘ I didn’t know that I couldn’t perform 
a marriage ceremony aboard ship. Guess that’s because a 
merchant skipper is permitted to do so and they don’t 
want us navy men to start anything like that.” 

He read on. “ Sounds like straight goods, that — ^not 
to enter any ports except as designated by my superior 
officer. Still, it adds that if I do there must be a full 
report made. Guess they know it’s bound to happen 
sometimes. ' Captain last to leave ’ — sure, he ought to be 
if the ship’s going to be abandoned. But I don’t quite see 
the necessity of making him do it. Sort of takes the 
glory out of it.” 

It had been understood that the 204 was to have a 
month’s repair period in (the yard. But even the firmest 


244 


A CAPTAIN 


certainties are flimsy in navy life. Radio orders came 
direct from Washington. Cylinders and valves were 
thrown hastily together, the men gathered from their fur- 
loughs, and the 204 crept out into midstream. There she 
hesitated for a minute, like a sprinter on his mark. Then 
with a puff of white oil smoke she sped away to the sea. 

Migg’s instructions were to join the Alaska off Cape 
May. He had no idea what was in the wind but with full 
tanks and provisions for a month he was good for nearly 
ten thousand miles. 

The meeting took place as ordered. The 204 slowed 
up to step with the towering man-of-war and glided up 
within hail. 

Sierrct there,” was the hail. “ We report for duty 
in obedience to orders.” Migg^s clear voice carried like 
a trumpet. 

'' Very well. Commanding oflicer come aboard. The 
Sierra will stop and lower a boat.” The lusty tones struck 
joy into Migg’s heart. Once more he was going to have 
dealings with his old friend Captain Willis who had been 
chief of staff while Migg was flag lieutenant. 

He welcomed Migg in his cabin. Well, shipmate, 
weTe both skippers now ! was his cordial greeting. It 
was good to see the same old smile and have one’s hand 
half -squashed in a grip that was a byword through the 
245 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


fleet. Willis was a scarce twothirds Migg’s height. But 
he was broader and thicker in proportion. His head was 
the remarkable point about him. It was wide and nearly 
square. Old Oak-Face’' the men had disrespectfully 
named him. But the Iron Duke ’ of his associates was 
a more fitting title. His heavy jaw and hard dark eyes 
joined by a huge nose gave him at once an air of rank 
and power. His one failing, an uncontrollable sense of 
humor, he partly concealed by a ferocious moustache 
which fully draped the corners of his overlarge mouth. 

It’s a counsel of war you’re here for, Squiggy.” 
He was one of the few older officers of the service who 
could be familiar with their subordinates and not lose by 
it. Banana Island stuff again. This time the depart- 
ment thinks the natives are in cahoots with our enemies. 
Our game is a sort of diplomatic inquiry which may de- 
velop into shaking our fist under their nose.” 

‘‘ And I’m your sparring partner for the training 
period ? ” 

“ Not much. You’re the advance agent. We shall 
have a regular escort of scouts in case of U-boats. You are 
to go direct at full speed. On arrival pretend you’re in for 
provisions and water and find out what you can. If we 
ought to hurry or show up at any particular moment send 
me a cipher and I’ll play my part.” 


246 


A CAPTAIN 


The 204 shook free of her leash with a burst of speed 
that startled the battleship’s onlookers. At over thirty 
knots she soon disappeared over the southern horizon. 

Banana Island, as the fleet knows, lies square in the 
trades. A good harbor and high fertile ground have made 
it a convenience for seamen since the days when Captain 
Kidd put in there for wives and water. But its very con- 
venience robbed the native integrity. Remains a cosmo- 
politan worldliness that matches the clever knavery of a 
great city. 

And Banana City was great from its own point of 
view. Men from European powers had come there to 
trade, and stayed to rule. Not to pass slavery on the 
simple inhabitants but to organize their trade and govern- 
ment so that each had his share of the rapidly growing 
wealth. In return for this beneficence certain secret rights 
were held by foreign agents. Abuse of these rights was 
whispered in the ears of an unheeding country. Then war 
came. And the unheeding country broke into an hysteria 
of action. Strange facts came to light. Stranger might 
still be hid. 

Thus the Alaska and the 204 had sailed on a voyage of 
discovery. 

Migg’s first discovery was one of disappointment. He 
figured that as skipper of a vessel of war he was going 
247 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


to rate something of a blowout on his various prospective 
arrivals. To be sure, he exchanged calls with the consul. 
And there was a paragraph in the local Basoo, regarding 
his probable business. Beyond that time hung. 

Then Haskins turned up. The last time Migg had 
seen him was on the dock at Havana. He had just blown 
his last cent in on a sugar plantation and declared his in- 
tention of settling down for a lifetime of prosperity. Migg 
hauled him bodily over the side. 

“ Say man, you look like a weir-spar. Fever, I bet.” 

Haskins shrugged a pair of scrawny shoulders. 
“ Nope, just the country. Sugar went to pot. Now it’s 
coffee. Say, what’s the little game ? I hear on the beach 
you’ve come for grub.” 

Come inside and I’ll tell you.” Migg led the tall 
forlorn looking creature to his cabin. After locking the 
door and opening up some cigars he began the task Cap- 
tain Willis had set him. 

“ How long have you been here? ” 

Haskins looked keenly at Migg, then broke into a grin. 
''No use putting on airs with me. I know why you’ve 
come. Do you think I’d hit any country in the world 
and not have the dope inside of a week. There ain’t the 
shadow of a doubt what your job is.” 


248 


A CAPTAIN 


‘‘ Then puit me wise,” said Migg a little eagerly, for 
he himself was still much in the dark about the expedition. 

Well, you know that gang which used to hang out 
at the Paloma House in Port au Prince ? They’ve showed 
up here. I’m something of a fisherman as you may mind 
and, without exciting suspicion. I’ve followed them round 
the island. They lit on the back side. Said it was a fine 
place for a winter hotel. Got options for piers and build- 
ing land. Do you think they could fool Sam Haskins? 
I knew in a minute what the jerk was.” 

“ Well, what was it? ” Migg tried now to hide his 
keenness. Much as he trusted Haskins he didn’t wish to 
be misled. 

“ U-boats, of course. Good coral channel to the spot, 
and an outlying island for protection from the sea. But 
one thing they didn’t figure on. The real boss here is of a 
color. He knows the feelings of us Yanks. But foreigners 
is somehow different. He wants them to kowtow a bit. 
So when this thug Schmidt tried to engage the boss’ 
daughter as a maid there’s holy heck to pay. The worst 
of it is that the boss is too proud to let on what’s coralled 
his nanny goat and is stirring up the native contingent to 
get even. Thinks they’ll bust up things without his get- 
ting blamed for it. Of course, the news has got all garbled 
up between censors and ciphers and here you come armed 
249 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


to the bloody molars not knowin’ whether you’re to cap- 
ture a submarine base or put down an insurrection. Ain’t 
I hit it straight ? ” 

Apparently he had. Several visits ashore gave Migg 
no additional information except that everybody was in a 
state of uneasiness and that native feeling was in some 
mysterious way being fomented against foreigners in 
general. 

One important detail came from a French priest. A 
religious feast day was due the following Thursday. If 
there was to be any uprising the rum-fest ensuing after 
customary solemnities would provide a good beginning. 

Migg made haste to the 204 and sent a code dispatch 
to the Alaska. Nothing definite. Advise you arrive 
not later than Wednesday night.” 

But it was Thursday morning before the Alaska's cage 
mlasts writhed up in tropical mirage over the blue Carib- 
bean horizon. A signal gun from the old-fashioned Cas- 
tilian fortress drew the populace to the waterfront. For 
three miles the stone piers were black with men, women 
and children. 

As the stately ship glided into the landlocked harbor 
she made a fine spectacle of majestic beauty. Her high 
sides and huge turreted guns gleamed with a fresh coat 
of gray. On the flying bridge more than sixty feet in 

250 


A CAPTAIN 


the air could be seen the tiny white figures of Captain 
Willis and his group of deck officers. Nothing built by 
men could ever better symbolize the power of a nation 
than this first-class ship of the line. 

Before she anchored a signal fliashed for Migg to re- 
port aboard. He was alongside promptly as the gang- 
ways went down. 

‘‘How's my fellow conspirator?" blithely inquired 
the skipiper. 

“ Nothing to amount to a great deal, sir." And Migg 
went on to recount what Haskins had told him. 

“ Thought as much," was the captain's brief com- 
ment. “ We're here to unravel a personal difficulty they 
can't fathom themselves. Regular commanding officer’s 
job, this is. Some corner of the world gets into a scrape 
and can't get out for love nor money without the expert 
advice of a sea lawyer. Are we sea lawyers, Squiggy? 
Well I should smile." 

But in spite of his levity Captain Willis did not over- 
look the seriousness of the situation. He represented the 
United States and might easily involve her in further diffi- 
culty or lay the foundation for future hard feeling. 

“ Anyhow, I've made my plans," he continued. 
“ Here's the bill of my ship's landing force, a battalion 
of as good soldiers as there are in the world when it 
251 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


comes to actual fighting. In that trouble on the Mexican 
coast I made a study of beach warfare and I’m an expert 
if I do say it myself. Still, all captains are these days.” 

But Haskins says we may have to butt in on the 
foreign bunch. Is 'that possible ? ” 

Not except hnder extraordinary conditions of 
violence. But I have never let myself get behind on in- 
ternational law, and though it’s rather in disrepute since 
this war began, it will come back. In fact, I believe this 
is only a period of progress along these lines rather than 
atrophy as some alarmists would have me believe.” 

“ And you may even be forced to take over a mili- 
tary governorship,” Migg suggested, sticking to the 
subject. 

Nothing to it. Of course, we had mostly logistics, 
strategy, and itactics at the war college. But no captain 
should feel incapable of assuming the role of dictator at 
any moment of his cruise. Problems of supply, sanita- 
tion and local policing have been pretty well worked out 
for us by the British who excel at naval jurisdiction.” 

Just then the orderly announced Commander Dabney. 
“ Hello Migg, we’re still after spies, I see,” he laughed, 
referring to a bout of difficulties on the Sierra. Cap- 
tain, I’d like to go over a few points with you before you 
leave.” 


252 


A CAPTAIN 


“ All right, sir, if you hurry. Migg and I are due for 
a shindig ashore inside of fifteen minutes.” 

The commander shuffled a batch of papers. “If we 
coal here we’ll need a thousand tons. Fresh meat isn’t 
necessary, but our supply of fresh vegetables ought to be 
replenished. The surgeon has sent in this report about his 
mumps cases and asks your recoimmendations on the sub- 
ject. We are going ahead with shifting that ammuni- 
tion aft and expect to have the shell rooms in number 
four turret remodeled by next week. The navigator de- 
clares that your complaints about his charts on the way 

down were unfounded. He thinks^ 

“ Blank ! ” exploded Captain Willis. “ I know the 
regulations hold me responsible for all this stuff ; every- 
thing the ship is and does, in fact. But if I can’t depend 
on my right hand man, the executive officer to straighten 
most of it out and sift it down to big lumps. I’m going to 
be a raving lunatic in no' time. How about it, Squiggs ? ” 
But the commander only laughed. He and all the 
other heads of departments knew well enough they could 
“ pass the buck ” to the Old Man. But biggest part of 
the game was to keep him fully informed and alive to the 
great ship’s conditions and needs that he might the more 
intelligently coordinate the mass of complex forces at his 
disposal. 


253 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


All right, Captain. I’ll let yon go now. The gig 
is alongside. I won’t look for you back till after lunch.” 

They were met at the landing by the boss himself. 
Between a border of palms and barefoot police he escorted 
Migg and Captain Willis to a raised platform on which 
sat a committee of the leading citizens. 

First came a volley of applause taken up more music- 
ally by the band. After the ‘‘ Star Spangled Banner ” 
had died away for the ’steenth time the dusky boss rose. 
The ovation he received was quite different, very violent 
in spots, but by no means general. It was difficult to see 
just how the people stood. 

While Captain Willis was being introduced there was 
dead silence. But when he rose the chorus of welcome 
was unanimous. 

Again we see the nation’s representative on his job. 
Captain Willis was splendidly fitted. His words were 
earnest and direct. His voice carried to the fringes of 
the audience. Indeed, with such presence and poise and 
the gift of blending the expressions of his strong features 
into his meanings, he left nothing to be desired as a dip- 
lomatic courier. 

He was very brief. Not much more than a tactful 
expression of goodwill and a frank mention of the 
Alaska's world-famous power and size. The boss gave 

254 


A CAPTAIN 


the sign to move. Just beyond the city square on a hill 
overlooking the harbor was the so-called palace where a 
luncheon was spread in honor of the guests. 

Well-groomed carriages conveyed the party. In the 
first turnout were Migg, Willis, and the boss. The latter 
looked far from happy as he sat facing the Americans on 
the Victoria’s front seat. Suddenly Willis gripped Migg’s 
knee with his iron hand and thrust him backwards toward 
the corner. There was a flash of light, a sharp snap, and 
a long hunting knife buried itself an inch in the wooden 
frame by the boss’ elbow. 

“ French style,” grunted Willis laconically. ‘‘ Thought 
for a moment he had his eye on us.” 

Meanwhile there was a great uproar. From his van- 
tage the boss personally directed the capture of the as- 
sassin. Then he turned and apologized. A thousand 
pardons, gentlemen. But for grace you shall come to- 
morrow and see him hanged.” 

Luncheon passed without further excitement. In fact, 
the lively conversation of local plantation owners and 
agents, and others of high caste, was rather out of place 
with the tropical glory round about. 

Migg made a point of keeping near the captain. He 
was amazed at the manner in which the latter was able 
to discourse accurately upon all manner of professional 

255 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


topics. As yet he had failed to realize how thoroughly 
the older officers keep up to date. Indeed, Migg him- 
self could not boast such intimacy with various explosives 
as Willis displayed in his discussion with two men who 
were asking advice on the subject of turning over soil with 
dynamite. And the steamship agent openly confessed 
that never before had he been in company with anyone 
who had such a grasp of maritime problems of the world. 

“ Thanks, Mr. Lindow,’’ replied the captain. He 
spoke rather loudly Migg thought. Naturally many 
turned his way. You are right, sir. I, as well as the 
commanding officers of all our battleships, are on the 
mark when it comes to questions of international marine. 
We have mastered the sharp lines of policy and overseas 
government. And, best of all,’^ he paused significantly 
and glanced out across the harbor, my country gives us 
power with which to back our opinions.’’ 

A portentous silence ensued. In fact, luncheon ended 
at this point. Which was exactly what Willis had planned, 
for his gig was seen drawing up at the landing. 

On the way back he seemed to have lost some of his 
usual confidence. “ Migg, I don’t like the looks of things. 

I talk the language, you know. Some of the little fellows 
swear there’s to be a meeting pulled off to-night at that 
station back of the island. Of course I can’t act with- 


256 


A CAPTAIN 


out instructions from Washington. But if there’s any 
doubt I am going to get that submarine first and explain 
afterwards.” 

The chief news aboard was that the radio had failed. 
Code reports had gone to Washington all right. But the 
disturbance of an approaching hurricane seemed to fill 
the air with impenetrable static electricity. 

“ We’ll send the battalion, at any rate,” the captain 
ordered. Let the excuse be that we are afraid of rioting 
in connection with the party in progress. You can hear 
the shouting now. Migg will stay here and go with me.” 

So the assembly was sounded down the decks and in 
less time than it takes to tell a small army of eager men 
were armed and filed for the beach. Besides the infantry 
there were two colt machine guns and a pair of three- 
inch field pieces. Secret instructions were given to com- 
pany commanders to guard all exits from the town to- 
wards the water front. It was possible that some of the 
alien plotters might attempt an escape that way. 

As the skipper walked down between opened ranks of 
his crew he called them here and there by name. In fact, 
his attitude was one of unimpeachable leadership. 

Night fell swiftly as the boats shoved off. No word 
had come from Washington yet, so there was to be no 
change in the plans. ‘‘ I’m king here now,” said Captain 


17 


257 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Willis. ‘‘ That bunch ashore know it. The world turns 
round me to-night. Not a man on the Alaska will fail to 
do his share. Yet mine is the responsibility.” He nudged 
Migg in the ribs. And yours, Captain Migg,” he added 
severely, making effort to hide the twitch under his piratic 
moustache. 

Migg marched about the deck with a kind of nervous 
haste watching ithe gathering black of the tropical storm. 
In this way alone could he hide his joy at the prospect of 
a fight It was just as if the Alaska were an island ad- 
jacent to the principality of Banana, with Captain Willis 
as king, and he — ^Migg — ^the grand duke, or whoever it is 
(trots along the royal side and picks off the more dangerous 
of his opponents. 

Yoffve got to put on some old duds, Migg,” said 
Willis. ‘‘ I have a khaki uniform for each of us. I’d go 
in cits but you know that to be entitled to the rights of a 
prisoner of war you have to be in the imiform of your 
service.” 

By seven the twilight had dropped with tropical sud- 
denness. Only the loom of the island showed beyond the 
flickering town lights. And the distant cries of the rev- 
elers were fading before a more ominous whisper in the 
rising wind. 


258 


A CAPTAIN 


“ Boat’s alongside, sir,” reported the officer of the 
deck. It was a heavy navy whaleboat manned by twelve 
picked men. Migg and Willis were the only officers. 

WeVe got only an hour to get around there. I 
didn’t wish them to see me put off or I should have 
started soonen” The skipper turned to his crew. It’s 
a good five miles lads, but it may be worth double that 
before we’re through. Keep your revolvers dry and have 
a clip handy besides the loaded one.” 

It proved a hard pull. Surf on the beach threw out a 
cross sea which made a choppy highway for the tossing 
craft. Captain Willis might have been a Jolly Roger or 
a raceboat coxswain from the way he sang gay snatches 
of song in time with the stroke, or boosted the spirit of the 
wet bowmen. No longer was he the staid command- 
ing officer of a modern dreadnaught. Zest of adventure 
stung him into a keenness of anticipation that Migg in his 
twenties could not exceed. 

Mind that stroke now, you lubber. Great stuff, 
Migg. And think of Uncle Sam paying me four hundred 
and fifty a month for this. Why it’d cost a couple of 
beans per copy to get it canned under a pasteboard cover ! ” 
As the southern cape was skirted his mirth gave way 
to greater caution. Oars were muffled in spite of the ris- 

259 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


ing noise of wind and gusts of rain. A lookout was sta- 
tioned in the bow. 

Willis braced himself against the tiller and scanned 
the beach with his night glasses. There they are ! ” he 
exclaimed in a guarded voice. See that light near 
the ridge?” But Migg’s straining eyes saw nothing. 

Ah-h-h ! ” A red Very’s star shot into the air not fifty 1 
yards ahead of the whaleboat. 

The signal 1 ” Willis choked. Now’s our chance.” 
And sure enough, when a flicker of lightning lit the hori- 
zon beyond, an ugly silhouette stood for a moment black 
against the sky. It was the enemy submarine come for 
stores and mail. 

Willis told off the four forward oars to stand by to 
board. The locks of their automatics clicked audibly. 

“ Stem all, now ; we’ve got to wait till their boat is near 
the surf. Papers, especially, I want.” 

But the hurricane gummed the game. In a few mo- 
ments the fresh breeze filled to a half -gale. Spray and 
rain blinded the men at the thwarts. It was perilous to 
stick. Every minute the surf must be piling higher on 
the unprotected beach. 

'' There they are ! ” Willis indicated a bobbing light 
approaching from the direction of the station. “ Now, 
together men. And don’t shoot until I give the word.” 


260 


A CAPTAIN 


The long spruce oars cracked as they dug in. Angry 
seas leapt across the rail and swept into the water beyond, 
so strong had the wind become. Migg set a man bailing 
in the cockpit. Flashes of lightning now showed the boat 
ahead was making even heavier weather of its passage. 

Suddenly Willis shouted, “ Oars ! Then in the next 
^ breath : ‘‘ All hands man the oars ! Give way together ! ” 
He jammed the helm hard over. “ Capsized ! ” he bel- 
lowed. Other boat — ^we too, unless we hike.’' 

How they found a landing through the deluge of 
rain and the furious surf Migg never well knew. Not that 
he lost his head. He never did that. But the skipper’s 
roared commands kept him as well as the crew on the 
jump up to the moment they drew themselves exhausted 
up on the stubbly beach. The boat was abandoned a com- 
plete wreck. 

The trail back across the hills was found by the aid of 
a lantern from the deserted station. The house had proved 
empty except for a few valueless papers. There was, 
however, sufficient testimony to convict the conspirators 
should they ever have the temerity to return. 

Willis himself assembled the landing force. Men 
were drenched and chilled but far from dispirited. Their 
only discouragement was that there had been so little 


261 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


fighting. The American bluejacket has an unquenchable 
passion for action of any sort. 

Haskins turned up aboard next morning. Captain 
Willis, that black crowd ashore sent me out. They want 
you to annex their nation, or something like that. And 
so far as I can see you’re free enough to do it.” 

The captain laughed. ‘‘ Thanks, old man,” said he, 
“ but do you know I’d rather be captain than king.” 

It ain’t no joke,” continued Haskins. “ Though 
I told ’em you wouldn’t do it. Their point is that you’ve 
cleaned out this gang of thieves and now they want to 
show their gratitude.” 

‘‘ But how about the boss? ” 

“ Well sir, if you leave this morning by the back side 
you’ll see the wreck of a submarine high and dry on the 
inner bar. She was thrown there by the gale last night. 
They say there’s twenty-five bodies inside. One of them’s 
the boss. He’s been agent here for ten years ! ” 

And so it turned out when the truth was cleared in 
Washington. But doubly satisfying was the blackening 
skeleton of the great steel reptile Migg saw rusting on 
the white beach as he steamed northward that day. 

The offer of kingship to Willis he almost forgot in the 
reaction from the dramatic events through which he had 
262 


A CAPTAIN 

passed. He had cause to remeiuiber it the day of his 
arrival home. 

Report my return, sir,” said he to the admiral. And 
as he said it he recalled the wonderful independence of 
being a skipper. Who could ask more? And why should 
anyone ever wish to be an admiral ? 

All right, Mr. Migg,” snapped the old man. ‘‘ And, 
by the way, present my compliments to Captain Willis 
as you go back and ask him why the deuce he doesn’t 
anchor in position ! ” 

Migg shook his head as he went over the gangway. 

Whatever we are,” he mused, there’s always one 
higher. Think I’ll turn pirate and be done with it ! ” 
But he didn’t. He found that admirals are the scarc- 
est breed of all. And the captain is really king nine- 
tenths of the time. 


XII 


AN ADMIRAL 

Admirals run in threes. There are three kinds and 
three ranks. A rear admiral makes $8000 a year and is 
the next step above a captain. There are eighteen in the 
service. A vice-admiral is a rarer bird, only three being 
allowed by law. His yearly stipend reaches the amazing 
— by navy standards — ^total of $9000. Plain unembel- 
lished admiral is highest of all. Not only does he draw 
$10,000, but ihe earns it. All naval vessels in the Atlantic 
may be under his command. Or in the Pacific. Or he 
may, as chief of naval operations in Washington, direct 
the movements of the entire navy afloat. 

Those ar^ the three ranks. The three kinds are: 
First, the wholesome character who signs broadcast 
orders in a coastal navy yard and rides with the mayor on 
July Fourth. That he is an obscure rear-admiral is a 
matter of fortune. Not every man can be distinguished 
whatever his zeal or patriotism. Second, we have the 
Washingtonian diplomat who dines regularly with the 
senator from New York and ogles Colonel Bogy at the 
Chevy Chase Country Club. Third, and most truly naval 


264 


AN ADMIRAL 


of the categoiry, is the fleet admiral. He may be a 
junior rear/’ the still young and iturbulent leader of a 
division of battleships ; or an imperious vice-admiral 
dominating the progress of a whole force made up of 
divisions and squadrons; or he may be the big admiral 
himself, the commander-in-chief of the fleet and all its 
accessories, such as supply ships, colliers, destroyers, sub- 
marines, cruisers, and other side types to which a man- 
of-war can run. 

It was like Migg to link up with the big admiral. His 
friends said he always took the icing off the cake of life 
and left the dull half-sweetened duties for the rest of the 
crowd. But Migg had been selected up to the rank of 
commander over the heads of <two classes. The reasons 
were obvious. He had a record that sparkled. On his 
breast glimmered the ribbons of three naval actions — 
small single-ship encounters to be sure, but enough to 
prove that he had the right stuff in him. Furthermore, he 
had been fortunate enough to jam practically all the dif- 
ferent lines of naval duty into the space of less than three 
years. 

So when his old friend Willis, himself a maritime 
meteorite, got command of the fleet his first mail there- 
after brought an invitation to call on the flagship. 


265 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


“ Hello, Commander,’’ was the simple greeting in 
recognition of Migg’s newly acquired rank. “ This isn’t 
so much fun as cleaning out hornets’ nests. But it’s a 
blame sight more serious. Eh ? ” 

Migg shook hands gravely without answering. Ad- 
miral Willis knowing him of old, realized that Migg’s 
mind was racing over the situation and all its possibilities. 

Never mind trying to figure it out,” said the admiral. 

I’ve taken this fleet of forty first-line battleships and 
double that many auxiliaries, to say nothing of the 
swarm of destroyers and chasers which grows every day. 

No man in the world could run such an outfit. But ” 

he shook his fist under Migg’s nose, I am going to run 
the gang that runs it ! ” 

Migg laughed. The joy of getting near his old boss, 
to be filled with the enthusiasm which Old Oak Face ” 
brought to every ship he sailed upon, was worth much. 

You don’t want me to go staffing again, do you?” he 
asked. “ They call me a grafter now.” 

“ Bah ! ” snorted the admiral. That’s what they say 
of any man who shoots up these days. No. I’ve got a 
real job for you. The department agrees to send you if 
you’ll come. How about it?” 

Of course. I’ll come with you, sir,” Migg ex- 
claimed. '' But I thought your staff was full.” 


266 


AN ADMIEAL 


It is. I’ve got a chief of staff. Best on the market 
' — Captain Callow. Gunnery, engineering, and all the 
others are stars in their several lines. All young men, 
too. My secretary and flag lieutenants are two of the 
cleverest men in the service. But I need one more. I 
need someone near me who hasn’t any regular job. It’s 
not according to Hoyle. They laughed up in Washing- 
ton when I asked for you. But they took a different tack 
when I asked them who was going to run »the fleet if I 
didn’t.” 

So Migg made another navy shift. On the day after 
he joined the flagship Admiral Willis called him in. 
“ Some congressmen and two senators are coming here 
to the base to-morrow. Usually they send for me when 
they want to find anything out about the fleet. This time 
they are going to take a look-see themselves. But even 
then I’m the connecting link between the peevish tax- 
payer and his hunting pack. See what you can do for 
them. Don’t be afraid to give them all the dope. They’re 
politicians, but with few exceptions they’re a straight 
crowd when it comes to defending the country’s 
interests.” 

The secretary’s yacht brought the visitors. Migg 
went aboard her at once to tender the admiral’s invitation 
for lunch. The first man he saw was his old congressman. 


267 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Yes, Tm a senator now,’' admitted the burly old 

fellow. And you ” fingering the gold lace on 

Migg’s sleeve, “ must be pretty near an admiral.” 

“ I am,” Migg chuckled, “ the next thing to him. Are 
all of you coming over to lunch ? ” 

“ So we planned,” was the ready answer. But be- 
fore we go tell me what sort he is and how I’m going to 
recognize him.” 

“ A corker,” said Migg promptly and sincerely. And 
you tell him by his elbows.” 

‘‘His what?” 

“ Elbows. They’re the first part of him above his 
wrist which isn’t covered with gold lace 1 ” 

Thus was the ice broken not only for Migg but for 
the admiral. At noon the visitors assembled on the flag- 
ship’s quarterdeck. Down the roadstead for a distance 
of more than ten miles curved the double column of great 
battleships. In the shallower water on either side lay 
flotillas of destroyers and groups of light armored cruisers. 
To the naked eye a swarim of water bugs seemed to be 
crawling about the extremities of the columns. In 
actual fact they were not so diminutive as they looked. 
Submarine chasers and patrol-boats — for that’s what the 
insects really were — guard the entrances and approaches 
to all harbors and channels, and perform minor duties 


268 


AN ADMIRAL 

of dispatch and transportation for the nohler types of 
naval vessels. 

The guests stood silent in the magnificence of the 
spectacle. Gad ! ” exclaimed one, Tve read about 
them, put their numbers on paper hundreds of times, and 
voted billions for their purchase. But until now that 
I’ve set eyes on the bunch together I never yet appre- 
ciated the wonderfulness of them.’’ Then, turning to 
Admiral Willis, And you’re the King Pin! ” he blurted. 
His voice boomed deep with real admiration. Why 
I’d rather be you than president I ” 

The admiral smiled easily. It doesn’t make much 
difference who you are in wartime,” he answered quietly. 
“We’re all equally busy. And though I can lead them 
out to fight, just as the president leads us on to victory, 
it is the young men who really do the fighting. And 
they’re all young in this fleet no matter what their ages.” 

A Japanese steward interrupted with the news that 
luncheon was served. The party adjourned to a beauti- 
fully appointed cabin on the deck below. 

“ I thought it meant something to be an admiral I ” 
whispered one to Migg. He’s got apartments like a 
prince; and, judging from appearances, the best servants 
to be chosen out of the whole navy.” 


269 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


Why shouldn’t he ? ” Migg asked a little shortly. 

He is in coimmand of the next to largest fleet in the 
world wihich defends what is some day to be the greatest 
country in the world. You who rule that country have 
little idea of the independence and power he possesses. 
Yet with all of it he knows personally the majority of his 
officers. He can place the average petty officer by past 
experience. And the men he doesn’t recognize by name 
or record he can measure at the moment by the keen in- 
sight long years at sea have given him.” 

The ship’s orchestra played excellent music and the 
service was perfect. Yet simplicity was the keynote of 
the occasion. Even the heavy plate, presented, as is the 
custom, by the State after which the ship had been named, 
was in good taste. 

Conversation ran from professional details up to prob- 
lems of war, and through all the gamut of political 
economy. Nowhere was the admiral lacking. And 
though he seemed a veritable mine of information, he 
was in no way pedantic. Indeed the force and originality 
of his statements drove home what might have bored the 
average man. 

“ Tell us, admiral,” was one lead, just w!hat a naval 
battle is. We are surfeited with imagery of the trenches. 
We dream of muddy heroes rushing from their lairs 


270 


AN ADMIRAL 


amid roar and carnage of the battlefield. But of sea 
warfare we know little more than the vague chase of the 
lurking sub and the prosaic double column engagement of 
the men-of-war. Isn’t there something we miss ? ” 

There was a pause. The question was not well put. 
iYet by his narrowed eyes the admiral gave evidence of 
the gathering eloquence behind. 

Have you ever thought of the millennium? ” he in- 
quired irrelevantly. “ The time when there shall be no 
war. The peaceful future when each man shall have his 
little task, his little corner of the splendidly organized 
earth, each work in full contentment with (his rightful 
share of the earth’s riches? Gentlemen, that peace is 
like a fleet before action.” 

He looked about. And into the minds of the listeners 
came a picture of white decks. Sailormen thereon worked 
and played, and sang as they did both. There was perfect 
organization, and each appeared to have his rightful share 
of the deck, and the sunshine, and the little human things 
like food and drink between. 

‘‘ Now just suppose,” continued the quiet voice, that 
this beautiful period be marred by cosmic unrest. A 
series of meteoric wildfires are tearing across the heavens 
in perilous proximity to the earth. In consequence man- 
kind forms defensive parties ready to combat the dread- 


271 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


ful catastrophe should it occur. Nevertheless, they still 
go on working and playing and singing as before.” 

The admiral leaned forward and held up his hands as 
though striving to grasp some elusive thought that was 
struggling for utterance. 

“ And suppose,” his voice was resonant with a kind 
of prophetic sincerity of tone, “ that suddenly through 
the peaceful fields and towns there burst the scream of 
siren, and the crash of warning bells. The crisis is at 
hand I Out of the blue sky flames for one brief moment 
a holocaust of immeasurable force. The whole earth 
trembles as the comet strikes. A vast area is fused. 
Man’s flesh is fed like haywisps to the devouring flame. 

“ But the little parties here and there, who have 
learned to gather in military unity, mass against the 
terror. With cool but energetic haste they spread their 
defensive. Concerted play of ammunition upon the red- 
hot monster fails for a long space. Many are sacrificed 
to the cause. Then the tide turns. A cry of triumph 
is taken up through the scorched and blackened lands, 
grows, and blends into a song of victory. The smoke 
clears. Once more the sun breaks through. As sud- 
denly as the tragedy began, so suddenly it ends. Horrible 
may be the spectacle, pitiable the destruction, yet the 
battle is done. And it is only a question of time before 


272 


AN ADMIRAL 


the original peace and beauty of the world be restored!’’ 

A dead silence followed. Kind of poetic,” one 
heard a western representative remark in an audible 
whisper. But the common thought was voiced by Migg’s 
old benefactor. “ I believe you, Admiral,” said he. 
“ This fleet, you mean, has all the earmarks of the mil- 
lennium. Everybody busy and happy, and sharing in 
the peace and comfort of the whole. Yet in the sky you 
recognize the flare of war. So you are organized against 
its coming. And when the comet strikes, that is, the 
battle comes, you tie together without thought of the 
awfulness of it all, and, fight! And wken it’s over you 
simply turn to and in no time are back in the state of 
clean efficiency we know our navy stands for.” 

This highly keyed discussion might have gone on in- 
definitely had not the orderly turned up with a slip of 
paper for the admiral. 

For at least a minute he stared at the dispatch. Then, 
“ Migg,” said he, “ here’s a little job for you.” He 
handed over the sheet which was covered with an un- 
broken mess of letters and figures. 

In a glance Migg’s practised eye saw that the cipher 
was in some special secret form known only to the ad- 
miral himself. 


18 


273 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


“ Please excuse me, gentlemen. This may be some- 
thing pressing.’' From his manner one would never have 
guessed that he had just set eyes on a mark which meant 
bigger action than the naval world had yet seen. He 
had recognized in the hieroglyphics enough to reveal 
something of an extraordinary nature. 

Migg never knew what became of the guests. He 
may /be pardoned, though. Half an hour of decoding 
brought him to the admiral with a startling message in 
clear English. 

It’s come, sir,” he said without blinking. ‘‘ They’ve 
sneaked out again. Another Jutland, only this time the 
British won hands down — God bless ’em ! ” 

“So?” The admiral, like Migg, was guarding his 
emotion. 

“ Yes sir, onl y — There was something hard 
about Migg’s clean jaw as he strove for words in which 
to frame the great news. “ A part has broken away,” 
he flashed, “ and we’re going to get our crack ! It may 
have been all in their plan. They split north of Ireland. 
Four squadrons met the Allied fleet on even terms. Seems 
they must have battled most of the day, clear down the 
western coast. Destroyers fought all the way round 
Land’s End. But we won. The Grand Fleet demolished 
their main battle line. Planes were rushed up, and subs, 
274 


AN ADMIRAL 


and patrols. They swept out the hangers-on. Dirty 
work, too, from what I gather, with a hundred U-boats 
and mining craft standing off like a lot of thugs.” 

‘'But the part that broke?” The admiral spoke 
softly. 

“ Is for i£s! Migg shouted. “ It's heaven’s own 
gift! We had to have a share. They were cut off — 
couldn’t return, with the Englishmen strung out red- 
eyed behind. So they headed here for a desperate crack 
at us. There was an unknown reinforcement — ^Baltic 
scullduggery, perhaps. We’ll get a real scrap, maybe ship 
for ship, and cruisers beside. Oh, it’s fine — it’s fine!” 
Migg’s eyes flamed with exultation. 

“ Yes,” the admiral mused, “It is.” Already he was 
figuring with pad and pencil. “ So they’re headed this 
v/ay,” he repeated. 

The message proved to be no more than one of infor- 
mation. It prepared the admiral for the one to follow. 
At first he expected summons from headquarters for a 
council of war. But the situation was too serious. 

“ Hostile fleet at large. Must be destroyed. What 
time do you require to start? ” was the laconic wire from 
Washington. 

“ None,” Migg replied, and signed it “ Willis.” 

275 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


There would be a few hours of grace before final de- 
cision might come. Admiral Willis drew Migg into his 
private office. Bolted to* the bulkhead was a large draw- 
ing board at least five feet square. Half of it was cov- 
ever with a chart of the Atlantic Ocean. The other half 
was divided into small squares, which again were segre- 
gaited into groups. 

‘‘ The fleet,” said the admiral, a little proudly. 

And Migg saw that on the chart were a multitude of 
tiny vessels pinned to the cardboard. A cluster at tlhe geo- 
graphical position of the base indicated the mobilized 
forces. Others in mid-ocean or scattered along the coast 
testified to the breadth of command imposed upon one 
man. 

The squares are my own idea,” commented the ad- 
miral. ‘‘ In each you see the name of a ship. Under- 
neath the name are small captions — gunnery, provisions, 
coal, personnel, and so on. Those little pins with colored 
heads opposite each caption indicate the state of readi- 
ness of that particular ship.” 

“ Blue must mean she’s full up,” said Migg, noting 
the prevalence of blue pin-heads over the board’s white 
area. 

“ Yes. But here are red ones opposite both coal and 
provisions for this cruiser. She has just come in from 


276 


AN ADMIRAL 


a long cruise and needs both. Those brown ones you see 
by that pair of destiioyers indicate that they should have 
repairs, though they could be used in an emergency.” 

To Migg the board was a graphic illustration of the 
perfect grip this one man had of his forces. That they 
were spread across the hemisphere seemed of little mo- 
ment. Invisible threads of radio bound each craft to its 
central guiding power. 

‘‘ There is no time to be lost,” snapped the admiral 
with a change O'f voice as he traced markers here and 
there, and shifted the miniature vessels across their 
printed ocean. “ Have my division and squadron com- 
manders report on boai^d at once. And send word to the 
staff I will see them immediately.” 

While the flag lieutenant was sending his fluttering 
signals down the long column the various aides gathered 
rapidly. Migg himself brought charts and references to 
help in settling the hurried preparations for departure. 

The admiral opened the meeting by a brief outline of 
the emergency and plans. ‘‘ It’s up to us,” he declared 
with informal directness, “ to go out and clean them up. 
Commander Palings, how about coal? Two of the bat- 
tleships are only a little over half full.” 

“ Simple matter. Admiral,” was the fleet engineer’s 

277 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 

prompt reply. ‘‘ The colliers are full and can go along- 
side at once.’’ 

“ Send them,” was the instant decision. And by a 
push of a bell, which brought an orderly, who took a 
message to send a signal, the pair of battleships were 
coaled to hatch combings within three hours. Such was 
the clean directness of the admiral’s command. 

Likewise through the fleet gunnery oflioer were sev- 
eral magazines among the cruisers brought up to extreme 
capacity. The fleet paymaster gave intelligent answers 
to questions that would have bewildered the superintend- 
ent of a wholesale grocery. And his unhesitating guar- 
antee of speed sent launches from a dozen first line ships 
flying to the meat boats for a last grab at grub. The 
surgeon suggested that certain men-of-war along the 
coast land their cot cases at the local hospitals. Within 
five minutes wireless messages were sizzling out to each, 
giving orders to this effect and signed by the admiral 
himself. 

Through an amazing list of details the little cabinet 
ploughed. And as each terse decision stood naked and 
approved the admiral acted. Either a dispatch was sent 
or a brief order issued which would bring the completed 
action within a space of hours, if not minutes. This 
small group of brains contained more aggregate informa- 


278 


AN ADMIKAL 


\ 


tion about tlhe navy than any bookshelf in the land. Their 
positive knowledge wasi at all times on tap for the leader. 
But he alone must bear the responsibility for making 
final decisions. And upon him devolved the minute action 
which could set the train of execution in effect. 

Yet there was no grandiloquence or false reserve in 
his manner of dealing with his advisers. I will noV. 
he roared when Migg suggested the possibility of recall- 
ing a certain division that had sailed southwards the day 
before. “ They have standing orders to be ready for 
anything. They left for a definite mission. They had no 
assurance that I would not call upon them for more. Am 
I not right?’’ 

Yes sir.” 

“ Then don’t make fool speeches.” He glared about 
him, then in the middle of it broke into a grin. ‘‘ Still,” 
he added with a twinkle, “ this argument of mine is 
mostly noise. What do the rest of you gentlemen think 
of the proposition?” 

No wonder they called him human. No wonder they 
fought with him, and by him.* Little wonder indeed, 
that often they did not pound his broad back for the 
humor and understanding nature of him. Which after 
all was nothing more than that magic magnetism which 
makes a man a leader of his fellows. 


279 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


‘‘ Now clear out! ” he shouted at the exact second of 
time when all hands were ready to turn to with a will 
on the task each one was set. And break right in if 
there's a jot weVe missed." 

Pomp and ceremony — ^fiddle-dee-dee ! “ Deliver the 

goods " was his motto. And he lived up to it with a 
punch. 

In perhaps three minutes the cabin was cleared. The 
admiral paced the red linoleum, his broad shoulders 
hunched to the rim of his close-cropped hair. Occasion- 
ally he gave a sharp twist to his long black moustache. 
He was fighting ahead of time the battle he knew was 
imminent. 

Admiral Glint coming aboard," warned Migg. 

“ I won’t go up this time," said the big admiral. 

Bring them down as they arrive." 

With naval promptitude six barges made the flagship’s 
gangway. A prodigious piping of side ushered them 
aboard and Migg himself welcomed them to the counsel 
chamber aft. 

‘‘ Nothing much," began the speech that afterward 
became famous. Just a little pleasure jaunt we’re out 
for. Is there one of you can’t sail at daylight?" 

The seven admirals exchanged glances. And in their 
failure to respond was the grandest victory the service 
280 


AN ADMIRAL 


cotild have asked. Without warning the commanders of 
the fleet’s subdivisions to a man admitted their complete 
readiness for anything from boat-race to battle. 

‘‘ Gentlemen,” exclaimed the admiral, his dark eyes 
snapping, “ a loving cup barrel-high tendered by you to 
me as a mark of approbation could not give me half the 
thrill of pleasure your silent answer does ! We’re 
ready?” For ten seconds his hand held up. “Then 
we’re off ! ” And his fist slammed down with a crash 
that made even the oldest sea-dog blink. 

’Tis no exaggeration to say they heard the news 
and ran. The following dawn came late for the pall of 
smoke the flying fleet spread seaward. And, strange 
though it may seem, no man whatever his rank or posi- 
tion outside the admiral, Migg, and the “ Big Staff ” 
knew whither the ships were bound. 

No man had asked. In war a navy man does not 
waste time with inquiries. He gets his orders from “ top- 
side”; and, if he’s on the job, he is far too busy doing 
it to want the whys and wherefores of it. 

So the great Atlantic fleet steamed eastward. Like a 
living fan it spread out into the waste of blue water. On 
the south’ard horizon hung gray streamers of a score of 
swift destroyers. North and northeast were nicked by 
the lean hulls of a dozen scout cruisers. Dotted through 


281 


CLEAR THE DECKS 


half the seaward circle of sky and water were hurrying 
patrols. In* the centre lumbered the big ships. Yet they 
rushed, too; for twenty knots is great speed for sea 
monsters running up to forty-thousand tons. The coal 
burneiis smoked madly to hold position and their bow 
waves were like froth on the bit of a racer. But the 
oilers breathed none of the dragon’s breath. A whitish 
mist spun from the squat funnel of each and left a reek- 
ing wake for the next in column. 

‘‘ You see it now, don’t you, Migg?” asked the ad- 
miral turning his oil-skinned shoulder to the spray that 
leapt the flying bridge a clean sixty feet above the spume 
below. 

‘‘ Yes sir. But your diagram gave me little idea of 
the protection to be gained.” 

The admiral nodded. “ They wouldn’t accept this 
formation at the war college. Said it was awkward. But 
look at those columns to right and left of me. I can 
throw them into battle like the loop of a Kansas lasso. 
And the scouts are hull down. But watch them draw in 
for the night. By the way, have you gone over my search 
curves? ” 

There was something dubious in Migg’s nod of assent. 
True to his custom Admiral Willis demanded explana- 
tion. “ I’ll show you,” said Migg with respectful flrmness. 


282 


THE COAL BURNERS SMOKED MADLY TO HOLD POSITION, AND THEIR BOW WAVES WERE LIKE FROTH ON 

THE BIT OF A RACER 






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AN ADMIRAL 


In the cabin they bent over what looked like a huge 
spider web sketched on an enlarged chart of the British 
Isles and their encircling seas. Curving tendrils of the 
web seemed to focus on three different points toward the 
outer end of the English Channel. 

‘‘ These search curves/’ the admiral explained, ‘‘ are 
based on the news that the enemy was seen at one of the 
three points on which my lines converge. We know that 
he boasted a probable blow at one or more of our south- 
ern ports. Therefore, by laying off his possible routes, 
separated by the limits of visibility of our scouts and 
divided into day and night zones, we can by a process of 
elimination hunt the villains down.” 

Plain enough,” agreed Migg. Just the simple 
search curves that we’ve used for several years. And 
with the practice most of our flag officers have had the 
game ought to be easy.” 

Migg stopped and gave the older man one of his 
penetrating looks. “ But Admiral,” said he after a mo- 
ment, may I ask why you have laid out this extra 
series in red to north’ard? You yourself admit they’ll 
probably come south.” 

The admiral’s answer was an amused grunt. ‘‘ Set a 
thief to catch a thief, you know. He stole the fact we 
use these curves. And I’ve stolen the fruit of his imagi- 


283 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


nation.” The admiral bent over and spoke with the in- 
tensity of curbed anger. “ He thinks he has outwitted 
me. Perihaps he has. In these twenty- four hours to 
come I shall know. For I stake life on his bluffs, his 
cunning, and his undeniable shrewdness. He’s coming 
direct. And he’s dead ahead to-night ! ” 

The news struck Migg like a blow. He knew long 
ago that the big admiral works on details only as the 
mood strikes him ; that ships and men and miles of sea 
room are tiny pawns in his powerful hands ; that he has 
a vast and complex machine which will work automatic- 
ally save that a touch of the oil of suggestion here and 
there will make it run more easily. But to see this simple 
figure, without pomp or ceremony, wield the club of his 
professional experience and insight was inspiring. The 
admiral’s speech was not a boast. Nor was his aim a 
risk. Every means of material and personnel he had 
thrown into preparation. But the final responsibility was 
his. And unflinching he faced to meet it. 

Migg returned to the bridge. The wind had fresh- 
ened and the eastern scouts had disappeared into a wall 
of mist. 

From his vantage of the bridge he glanced about the 
assembly of war vessels and recalled what the admiral 
had given as description of naval battle. Nothing better 


284 


AK ADMIKAL 


could symbolize the millennium than these thickly popu- 
lated steel habitations. 

There below and just aft Migg saw low benches 
lined with a throng of happy sailormen. Pipes were lit 
in contentment of the evening meal. There was health 
and humor in abundance. For each had his share of 
space and clothing and food. Each had done his daily 
task at deck or engines, and each was pleased in his own 
little way at the completion of that task. There was 
no grasping jealousy in the talk. If there was strife 
Twas only competition of arm against arm for joyful 
trial of the muscles which grew upon them. 

But there must be, as the admiral had said, a cosmic 
unrest. There on the bridge the navigator was voicing 
his opinion that no enemy would come this far north: 

I take it he’s hanging back, close to his base of supplies.” 

But weVe got to stand by any day and all days,” 
was the answer, which was borne out by a gun’s crew 
on watch below. So men were not blind in their happi- 
ness, but stood alert and ready should the comet of de- 
struction come their way. And ever above them loomed 
the thinking figure of the admiral. 

He stood a little apart as though brooding over the 
subtle spirit of his charges. Perhaps he wondered him- 
self why they were loyal to one being so much the same 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


as they. And he may have answered logically that this 
was only a manifestation of the religious instinct rife 

in every heart. Perhaps^ 

And he says '' ritsh it ’! 

The admiral turned sharply to Migg. He seized the 
white cipher before the messenger had ceased to pant the 
urgency of it . 

“ Hostile scouts nine five,” he read. 

From the 204,” interpolated Migg, indicating the 
one of the destroyers which had originated the report. 

The admiral squared his heavy chin. “ ^ Nine five,’ 
nearly due east. Hah 1 I was right, even to the time. 
He wanted moonlight. I guessed that, too, though I 
didn’t tell you. He’ll come straight on.” 

In the flash of an eye the man jumped into action. 
‘‘ Swing them into line ! ” he roared to the flag lieutenant 
on the signal deck. The bunting flags shot up. But 
growing twilight made searchlight repetition of the signal 
necessary. 

The gray shadows fell back for a space, then crept up 
into a long foaming line abreast the flagship. 

“Battle stations now,” was the next crisp order. 
And in the last gleam of daylight Migg saw the squat 
steel turrets swing around on the decks of the battle- 


286 


AN ADMIRAL 


ships, the muzzles of the guns elevated as if nosing for 
a scent of their prey. 

A red rocket flared on the horizon, burst into stars, 
and was swallowed up in a blood-red glow behind the 
fogbahk. 

‘‘ Moon rise in ten minutes,” announced the admiral, 
ignoring the rocket. Migg scarcely heard him. The 
dash of fire had been the emergency signal for sighting 
the enemy battle-fleet. 

‘‘ Wefll plot him now, Migg,” said the admiral lean- 
ing over to watch the stream of white figures flood into 
the flagship’s turrets. Ah, listen to them laugh. They 
love it ! ” he exclaimed in almost passionate satisfaction. 

He was right. They loved peace and comfort and 
simple labor. But when the holocaust threatened the 
peace of all that was dearest no intoxication of joy could 
have equaled the hot ardor with which each American 
bluejacket sought his place in the terrible duel at hand. 

The admiral and Migg and four other officers ad- 
journed to an armored box above the main bridge. Ex- 
cept for the coming moon the night was pitch black. 
Every ship was darkened. Yet through the slits in the 
heavy plates Migg could discern vague shapes of those 
nearest. 

Recall the outer lines.” 


287 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


A radio key clicked for five seconds. Five more 
seconds were deadly quiet. 

'' Acknowledged/' announced the young officer 
operating. 

“ Stand by for column.” The admiral spoke almost 
casually. He had been over it all so many times be- 
fore in his mind. 

Aye, aye, sir,” from a figure leaning over the white 
plotting hoard partly illuminated by a shaded light. 

The key clicked again. This time moonlight be- 
trayed the maneuver. The speeding line receded wing 
by wing and fell into a column of foam and black masses. 

The fogbank still hung eastward in the yellow light 
and brought again to Migg’s mind snatches of the pic- 
ture the admiral had painted. ^'The crisis is at hand. 
Out of the sky flames a holocaust of immeasurable force.” 

A stifled cry leaked up through the conning tower 
tube. In the same instant the fogbank broke into a red 
and fiery rash. 

‘‘ They saw us first,” commented the admiral, as if 
he had known it all along. calculated on the light.” 

He chuckled, but his mirth had in it a note of terrible 
assurance. I did, too/' he added. 

The words were scarcely out when the first salvo 
landed. It was well short. At least a thousand yards 
288 


Copyright by International Film Service 

IHE FLAGSHIP HEAVED AS THOUGH TORPEDOED AND TWO HUNDRED TONS OF STEEL IN HALF-TON CHUNKS 

CHARGED SCREAMING FOR THE ENEMY WHO DARED VIOLATE OUR SEAS 






AN ADMIRAL 


towards the yet invisible enemy uprose a column of 
geysers parallel to the American fleet. An instant later 
the shrieking shells passed over head. 

The admiral snapped a stop watch he held in his hand. 
On the plot board he jotted a figure or two. “ Huh — ' 
twenty-five thousand, I make it,” he murmured, mean- 
ing the range in yards calculated from the flashes and 
the noise of passing projectiles. 

“ All right, Migg, let’s at ’em ! ” 

‘‘Open fire!” echoed Migg to the radio man, and 
darted to the peephole. A ripple of flame ran down the 
column astern. The flagship heaved as though tor- 
pedoed. And two hundred tons of steel in half-ton chunks 
charged screaming at the enemy who dared violate our 
seas. 

Though fighting blindly both sides hit early. The 
third volley landed squarely. One ship fell out of column 
staggering like a drunken man. Another in her fury of 
pain squirted a poisonous venom of thick black smoke. 
But mostly the fire was only speeded up. 

A gas shell struck near the admiral’s conning tower. 
Masks were adjusted before the fumes had reached the 
plotter. At the admiral’s request Migg raised the hatch 
a fraction in order tO' survey the damage aft. But a 
mass of wreckage near the smokepipe obscured his vision. 


19 


289 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


And a lurid flame at the crew’s galley distorted twisted 
columns and bulkheads into grotesque semblance of their 
former regularity. 

It was necessary to Shout in order to make one’s self 
heard above the frightful thunder of the guns and the 
tearing crashes of shells exploding aboard. Very little 
concussion could reach the inmates of the tiny fortress, 
but the heavy jarring thuds threw every man to the deck 
did he not grip himself against them. 

The admiral stood with his hand resting on the oper- 
ator’s shoulder. Migg saw the sho'ulder twitch. The 
admiral leaned to read. He straightened up and signed 
to the plotter. A moment of graphic calculation gave 
the answer. First flotilla meet enemy destroyer at- 
tack,” scribbled the operator, and his key vibrated the 
order invisibly. Five miles to eastward the leashed hounds 
shook their lines and ran. They met the attack bow on. 
They swung and fired. They fought at grips, a fight 
within a fight, deathlocked with the enemy boats midway 
between the monsters. 

If we could only seel ” Migg groaned and strained 
his smarting eyes for a glimpse of the opposite fleet. He 
was disappointed. He had expected something spectacu- 
lar. He had pictured an orderly spectacle of the two 


290 


AN ADMIRAL 


fleets massed against one another and 'fighting with cool 
precision. 

Instead the world of battle was shrouded with a ter- 
rible ghastly light. Moon and explosive combined to 
make a deathly glare. In the noisome breath of guns 
and furnaces the sea itself, what he could make out 
alongside, was greenish black. 

He Ihad anticipated noise. Target practice had pre- 
pared him for it. But compared to the noise of the ship^s 
guns the nightmare of bursting shells was frightful. 
Target practice — ^hell itself — ^could not prepare a man 
for that. 

He had imagined the admiral boldly directing his 
forces by flashes of colored bunting shot to the battle 
halliards. Instead he saw a sardonic figure driving invisi- 
ble blows with the pass of his hand. 

For Migg there was no battle. He stood in the black 
centre of an active volcano. Eruption blared around 
him. Why he still lived seemed a miracle. But no less a 
miracle was the man who half-grinned when the inferno 
increased. 

Suddenly there was a lull. Comparative only. The 
enemy’s shells ceased to fall on the flagship. 

“They’re concentrating ahead,” said the admiral. 

291 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


And Migg saw then the wisdom of placing the leader 
midway in column. 

For the first time Migg perceived something like emo- 
tion on the admiral’s face. Somehow he realized that a 
crisis had been reached. He knew the ships ahead could 
not last under the murdering fire of double their number. 
The captains could do nothing. Their task was only to 
hold the formation and fire to the end. Nor could com- 
manders of subdivisions manage with success to solve 
the tactical problem into which the two large forces had 
become entangled. 

The balance lay in the hands of one man. The ad- 
miral alone controlled the fleet. He alone held all the 
threads. And his was the power to strike, or dodge, or 
counter. Of course, a second ship would take up the 
supreme command were he destroyed. But the loss would 
be irreparable. 

Smoke screen,” he wrote on the pad. ‘‘ Fifth flotilla 
spread. Rear squadron battlefleet circle enemy left.” 

Migg could have screamed in his delight. For he saw 
the fiendish ingenuity of the plan. Ten American ships 
would fall out under cover of a heavy blanket laid by 
the oil-burning destroyers. Their absence would be laid 
to disaster hy the enemy who could not see. Their extra 
speed would swing them on the enemy’s flank like a wolf 


292 


AN ADMIRAL 


pack inside of twenty minutes. They would devour that 
flank. They would gnaw swiftly to the enemy’s heart. 

And I had to give him advantage of light and mist 
and concentration 1 ” the admiral roared when he saw 
Migg’s glee of appreciation. 

But those minutes were hours. A dhange of course 
threw the enemy fire off for brief space only. Another 
battleship blew up in a flame gleaming white. One de- 
stroyer mangled beyond reco'gnition and fleeing with 
guns and tubes shot away appeared suddenly on the flag- 
ship’s bow. Too late she was seen. The great ram cut 
her clean in two and she disappeared in a cloud of 
steam. Migg, transfixed in an agony of pity, saw one 
lone figure cheer them on with a tragic gesture. 

But the blindness of it! Two hundred ships of war, 
stripped and murdering, spreading the sea’s black with 
gory wreckage. Yet but two or three in sight. The rest 
invisible in the night save for the flame of their guns. 

The admiral studied his watch. He snapped it. Migg 
knew the moment had come. The detached squadron 
must have closed. He craned his neck to see the distant 
left flank. No sign of action even. 

‘‘Did they acknowledge?” To Migg’s amazement 
the admiral was indicating the enemy’s head ship to the 
plotting officer. No — of course! He had sent the fast- 


293 


CLEAE THE DECKS! 


est destroyers up there. That they were also the best- 
fitted with torpedoes flashed into Migg’s mind. 

“ Battleship attack to the left — torpedo attack 
ahead 1 ” Migg sang the words over and over as his 
head buzzed with the din. 

The fog bank in the east suddenly thinned. A long 
snake of black (humps showed faintly on the black hori- 
zon. Each hump torched. Abruptly the end humps in- 
creased their flashing to a steady flame. Then a noiseless 
explosion destroyed each end hump. Perhaps a minute 
later the next end humps 'blew up. 

Migg lost his head for once. “ They’re picking them 
off ! he screamed. One by one — one by one ! Can’t 
you see, sir? — they’re picking them off!” He gripped 
the admiral’s arm in his ecstasy. 

The admiral did not answer. His thick arm felt 
limp under Migg’s hot hand. He leaned against the 
armor wall and looked about with half-closed eyes. He 
must be wounded, Migg thought. But he was doing a 
very natural thing. He was rolling a cigarette. And 
he pushed the plotter to one edge of his narrow stool. He 
sat down wearily and lit the cigarette. 

But ” Migg faltered. “ What ” The fir- 

ing had ceased. Only a distant throbbing indicated that 


294 


AN ADMIRAL 


battle was still in progress. But Admiral, is there some- 
thing I can do? ’’ 

The admiral passed his hand across his face. He 
looked ten years older. “ Yes, you can form the fleet — 
no, let division commanders take charge and return to 
port.’’ 

‘‘You mean it’s over?” gasped Migg. 

The admiral waved to the narrow peephole. Migg 
looked out. There were no more flashes, no fire; only a 
peaceful moonlit night. Twice red and green stars shot 
up, ’way to the right. A destroyer passed and blinked 
something about picking up survivors. Mechanically 
Migg reported her signal. 

“ The cruisers will look after that,” said the admiral. 

Migg looked again. Could it be possible? Yes, the 
light now was sufficient. The enemy had disappeared — 
annihilated. 

And again the admiral’s words rang in his memory : 
“ Horrible may he the spectacle; pitiable the destruction. 
Yet the battle is done. And it is then but a question of 
time before the original pecu:e and beauty of the world 
be restored/^ 

The admiral’s job was done. His fleet had been ready 
for ithe call. He had taken it out and with dispatch had 
met the enemy. He had outguessed his adversary. Ad- 


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CLEAR THE DECKS! 


vantages o'f light and position he had cleverly sacrificed 
when he swung into column opposite the opposing men- 
of-war. He had opened fire with simple drill efficiency. 
But the very sacrifices, so obvious at first, had enabled 
him to throw a torpedo wing ahead of the hostile forces 
and a division of swift battle-cruisers at their rear. He 
had enveloped them, drawing fire himself meanwhile. He 
had cut the monster’s head and tail from its lacerated 
trunk. The trunk he had hewn down limb by limb. And 
now 'the pieces, reptile-like, writhed bleeding away in the 
darkness. 

When Migg spoke of survivors the admiral appeared 
indifferent. His apathy was real; it could afford to be 
so. Long ago he had attended to survivors. Long 
before he sat in his cabin, that day the news came, 
and sharply marshalled his forces. Months and 
years before the war he had prepared for it. Bit by bit 
he had developed his organization. Detail by detail 
he had covered the enemy’s possible attack. Gun by 
gun he had fought the battle itself. And, in his imagina- 
tion, he had won. 

The sum total of this hypothetical war had been ma- 
terialized in his orders. When the ships gathered, put 
to sea, and fought, they merely acted what the admiral 
had dreamed. He was an admiral because he could dream 

296 


AN ADMIRAL 


such things, and dream them accurately. Now that the 
critical phase had passed, there must ensue a certain mili- 
tary aftermath. Part of the dream, too, this was. So 
there were orders, months-old orders, covering the 
situation. 

Let’s see,” said the admiral on the bridge a little 
later, “ the second cruiser division chases south. Smith 
and his scouts must be up there in the north.” He indi- 
cated occasional flashes on the horizon which came and 
went like summer lightning. 

He was right. The forces indicated -had detached 
themselves automatically in accordance with a fixed battle 
doctrine. The cruiser division sought three of the enemy 
which had wheeled early in action and had stumbled away 
to escape. This maimed remnant split on sighting the 
pursuers. Mines were dropped; zig-zag courses were 
steered; stern guns blazed away; and, judging from the 
black smoke pouring skywards, every boiler was being 
tortured into a mad effort to elude the slathering pack at 
heel. 

The cruisers spread to avoid the mines. With strategic 
shrewdness they struck an easy gait while an attached 
flotilla of destroyers crept up on either flank of the fleeing 
enemy. The torpedo craft gained ground ahead. As in 
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CLEAR THE DECKS! 


the main fracas they laid a smoke screen, dodged down, 
and sank the battered warships. 

In the south a more intimate drama was being en- 
acted. That is to say, men fought in almost physical 
contact with one another. American patrols and a num- 
ber of destroyers flung off earlier from their leaders 
hung on the tail of an enemy scouting line in flight. In 
desperation the enemy turned. There was no concerted 
action. Dogs might have spun and snapped as they did. 

One high-sided scout turned with hardover helm and 
dashed for the unkempt mob in her wake. But her 
steering-gear, already shattered and patched, would not 
stand the strain. She veered to one side, started back, 
then steamed in a crazy circle. 

Two destroyers leading ranged alongside. Both were 
firing. The scout was firing. Everybody was firing. 
But a wisp of gray cloud across the moon gave pointers 
no chance for decent aim. 

Boarders stood ready at the destroyer rails. Some 
were bloody and bandaged. All carried weapons, either 
guns or cutlasses or ready-made pikes got from the fur- 
nace tool-racks below. 

The scout's fire suddenly ceased. Bells deep within 
her sounded a muffled alarm. Turrets vomited their men. 


298 


AN ADMIRAL 


Men squirmed out of escape hatches like so many mag- 
gots, dasihed to the rail, and leapt into the sea. 

Full astern! ” screamed one of the destroyer cap- 
tains. The other slammed his indicators down. Both 
reared back. 

A second later the scout lurched sidewise. Some- 
thing rumbled within. Steam jetted through ithe armored 
engineroom gratings. Smoke flooded from every hatch 
and shell-tear in her decks. With a jumble of thumps 
and gigantic sobs she broke in two and sank. 

One way or another they all sank. It was the ad- 
miral’s doctrine 'that they should. This was his gang of 
sweepers cleaning up. 

Also, as he had planned, there were survivors. Hun- 
dreds had gone overboard unscathed. They swam or 
drifted easily, buoyed by cork belts, while the fight 
dwindled. Many were killed accidentally as they waited 
to be picked up. Sometimes their own shells killed them. 

There were boat loads, and rafts of wreckage black 
with grimy warriors. Two such loads drifted together. 
With clubs of splinters they fought. One man had a 
sabre. Those that were not killed or wounded drowned 
because of the exhaustion this final scramble brought. 

A Yankee lad, the last of a small craft’s deckhands, 
came with the slow midocean stream straight into the 


299 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


arms of an enemy drifter. Both were unarmed. With 
his fists the Yankee scored a knockout in the first round. 
That round was one hour long, but he was accredited with 
having taken a prisoner when he was hauled aboard at 
dawn. 

With all its bloody intricacy this aftermath was very 
simple. The fighting units had fought and won. Now 
the sweeping units swept. And when each in turn had 
finished, and the enemy was gone, and living vestiges had 
been dragged deckwards to hot coffee and dry clothes 
and medical care, and the proper reports had been radioed 
to the admiral, the admiral slept. 

Migg himself awakened him with a telegram of con- 
gratulations from the President. 

Very full were the days that followed. There were 
parades and peace dinners, and navy yard overhauls, and 
arguments, and congressional investigations. But all con- 
tributed to 'the glory of the fleet, and through it to the 
prosperity and peace of the world allied. 

In a way all this bored Migg. He felt out of gear 
with the broken routine and dull periods of docking. 
Nothing could have delighted him more than the orders 
which brought the fleet once more to fall maneuvers. 

Once more the long gray columns swung easily at 
anchor in the Roads. Even the big admiral seemed at 


300 


AN ADMIEAL 


peace with himself. He sent for Migg. And he waited 
with a strange look of contentment on his lined face. 

‘‘ My orders have come/’ he said simply. 

“ You mean to shore ? ” cried Migg. 

‘‘ Yes, Navy Yard, New York.” 

But your time is not up yet.” 

No, it’s two years till I’m sixty-four. But I’ve had 
my chance. And I have been fortunate. Now is the 
time to start in the younger ones. Yes, my cruising days 
are over.” 

For a moment Migg looked at his old friend. Then 
he did a queer thing. He turned away without a word. 
The admiral saw that his eyes were dull with moisture. 

Next morning the barge came alongside. But after 
taking the admiral’s baggage it was shoved off by the 
officer of the deck. The coxswain wondered why the 
admiral had not come. 

A whaleboat followed the barge at the gangway. 
Twelve officers in starched whites, some with aiguillettes, 
and several well-silvered at their temples, manned the 
boat. 

The admiral came down slowly as his favorite boat- 
swain piped the side. There was no cheering. That is 
against regulation. But 'there was even deeper feeling 
in the silence of the thousand men drawn up oh deck. 


301 


CLEAR THE DECKS! 


Shove off/’ Migg ordered. '' Out oars — give! way.” 
The locks and the whites creaked together. 

The admiral turned, his eyes shining. The flagship 
loomed up cleanly against the sky. Her white ranks 
stood very still and stiff. Even her masts and funnels 
seemed straighter and more military than usual. 

With a little choke the admiral waved, and turned 
away for the last time. His life’s cruise was done. 

Migg saw a quartermaster wave back. 

Half an hour later Migg was back aboard. Routine 
went on as usual. No vestige of his late Chief remained. 
A sense of loneliness swept over him. The futility of life 
was bared. What if the admiral had gained fame? Was 
that all there was in life? 

At the flag office he stopped. ‘‘ Any mail, Stevens?” 
he asked mechanically. 

'' One letter, sir.” The yeoman passed out a blue 
envelope. 

Migg’s heart paused the fraction of a beat. He read 
the address over several times. The memory of a slender 
figure in white came back to him. ‘‘ That was some dog 
she had,” he muttered absently. But my Jim was too 
much of a thug.” 


302 


AN ADMIRAL 


In his stateroom Migg tore the note’s edge with a 
strange reticence. It was as if he had some premonition 
of danger. He glanced down the brief page. 

‘‘ So she wants me to come,” he mused. 

Suddenly he leaped to his feet. ‘‘Why he didn’t mind 
— ^he didn’t even look behind ! ” he exclaimed. “ And if 
the Big Admiral can turn his back on the fleet just for “the 
smile of a wife — — !” The incoherent speech gave way 
to an almost violent search for pen and ink. 

“Of course I’ll come,” Migg scratched. And when he 
had signed the nickname she had always used, he added to 
himself out loud : “ For even if she bores me stiff, she’ll 
at least be there waiting when my last cruise is done ! ” 












